Psyche
by Artemis Queen of the Stars
Summary: She was nothing, just a random girl who was kidnapped to help him escape Batman. Who could imagine that'd he'd break her mind and she'd give up everything for him? Forget Becky Albright, meet Psyche, the real Mistress of Fear. JC/OC Nolanverse
1. Unspectacular Beginnings

Psyche

**Summary: Catherine's usually so damn average it's not even funny. University graduate interested in travelling and volunteering. Her travels bring her to the city of Gotham where she thinks she'll merely be teaching kids. How distinctly unaverage her life becomes when she "meets" the terrifyingly sinister God of fear, the Scarecrow (AKA, the distinctly unordinary genius Dr. Jonathan Crane). This chronicles every twist of their dark relationship, from the unromantic start of their relationship with Cat's kidnapping to her deep descent into darkness and crime and transformation in the dark and twisted "Psyche, Mistress of Fear". Nolanverse, ratings will go up later. I don't own DC Comics, or Batman or Scarecrow (God, if only lol). I only own my own OC, Cat. Enjoy folks, consider this my first epic so reviews will be welcome (though flame me and I'll get Scarecrow to gas you in the lift :P)**

**Artemis**

**X**

**Chapter one: Unspectacular beginnings**

"Welcome to Gotham City Airport. Home of the world famous Wayne Enterprises, serving

world advancement in technology for 50 years." The intercom blared out to the masses

who, were waiting like cattle for their luggage to arrive on the carousel. This

typically everyday scene was like all the rest at the airport. The security cameras lazily

surveyed the crowd for anybody suspicious, pausing on random members of the herd. It

paused on one person. A young woman of about 21. There was nothing especially unique

about this woman. She was not tall, in fact, one could describe her as been small to the

point of being quite doll like. Her skin was tanned, but it was clear that this was only the

case because she had just gotten off the plane from Bangkok. Usually, she was pale to the

point of been compared to a ghost. Her face was obscured to the cameras at this moment in

time by her long and ridiculously thick lions mane of brunette hair which naturally curled to

just below her shoulder blades. Currently it was brushed forward, hiding much of her face.

Her eyes were covered by fashion-conforming, large sunglasses, giving her the distinct look

of a housefly, or cousin It dressing up. The camera moved on.

Catherine Adams sighed as she waited for her luggage to pull into view. It had been a

long ride from Bangkok and she was exhausted, it was not helped that she was freezing.

Shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another, she decided it probably wasn't the

brightest idea to stay in shorts and a vesty top instead of dressing for a different climate. Ah

well.

As soon as her suitcase came into view, Cat was out like a shot and hailed a cab.

Tomorrow, she would start teaching at Gotham Park High School as part of her yearlong

tour of the world gaining teaching experience (true, there was a marked difference between

teaching English in a Thai orphanage and actually teaching History in a Western

school, but she welcomed the wide spectrum of experience she was getting. It was cool

seeing the world like this instead of going straight into a job in England like everyone else in

her class), but tonight, she welcomed a hot bath and a long nights' sleep on an actual bed.

"First time in Gotham sweetheart?" Asked the cabbie, eyeing up the young woman

curled up in the back seat.

"First time in America actually." Cat answered simply. She wasn't unsociable, but she

despised unnecessary small talk. Why couldn't this guy just leave her to snooze until they

arrived at her flat in some district called "The Narrows"? She hoped that by leaving her

sunglasses on, she could give off the impression she was asleep. No such luck.

"Ah, English I see. Well, welcome to America. What brings you here sweetheart?"

Cat shuddered at the nickname. What a creep.

"Travelling round the world, teaching in places to fund it. Oh yeah, and New York

was closed." She finished sarcastically. Her eyes fell on today's paper folded up and left by

its previous owner on the far side of her seat. Been naturally politically aware and stuck in

the jungle for 4 months, Cat relished any chance to find out what was going on in the world.

On the front, there was a picture of a man. Actually, Cat assumed that it was a man, his face

was obscured by a burlap sack over his head. He was wearing a suit which at one point, may

have looked incredibly expensive, but was now torn and frayed. Cat made out the words

"Scarecrow" and "escaped" in the dark, but before she could ask what this new film was

about, the cab stop abruptly.

"Here we are." The Cabbie said doubtfully. "I can tell you've never heard of Gotham

before."

"Errr...why?" Cat asked rather confused.

"Well, why else would a young girl such as you want to live in the Narrows? It's

not a safe place for a girl on her own."

_ Urgh _Cat thought _I went travelling to get away from living with my parents and this _

_sort of thing! _"I'll be fine thanks, I'm nearly 22."

"Well..." The cabbie started. Cat cut him off edgily. She'd really had enough now.

"$12.50, right?" She stated, throwing the exact change at him and grabbing her luggage.

Thank god the landlady had forwarded her the key to her apartment, it meant she could

collapse on her bed straight away.

The apartment was sparsely decorated. Just 2 rooms and a bathroom. The sad living

room doubled as a kitchenette and included nothing else but a tiny TV and small, squashy

sofa and small phone on a side table. She assumed it was broken, but a soft dialling tone

told her otherwise. She considered calling her mum to tell her she'd arrived at her second

point of call safely, but thought better of it. It was too late and back home, her parents

would probably already be at work, likewise Claire and Jamie. Besides, small blessings

probably as she was too tired to even speak. Dropping her bags on the floor (god, how

depressing it was to see her life in one suitcase and one rucksack), she collapsed on the bed.

"Well, at least the film in the paper looked good." She mumbled before falling into a deep sleep.


	2. Learn Quickly or Drown

Chapter Two: You Have to learn this quickly or drown 

**Oookay, wasn't happy with the first chapter as it lacked my favourite character. Guess I needed to get introductions out of the way. Time to bring the not so good doctor into the equation : D As per usual, I don't own the Batman franchise or Cillian Murphy (*Daydreams*), just Catherine (who bears no resemblance to persons alive or dead). Enjoy xx**

Dorothy certainly wasn't in Kansas anymore. Or to be more precise, Cat sure as hell

wasn't in a tiny village in the middle of the Thai jungle. Gotham City was about as

Metropolitan as they got. After a quick phone call to her mum which consisted mostly of

Cat assuring her mother that she had enough money in the bank (she hadn't put her degree

in jeopardy working all hours during her exams for nothing) and that she was well stocked

up (her landlady had kindly put some basic provisions in the fridge and around the place)

and a promise that she would keep in more regular contact than she did in Thailand.

"Mum! For God's sake! I was in the middle of the jungle! We didn't exactly have a

great internet connection!" Cat said exasperatedly.

"Well I'm just worried about you Cat! So's your dad. We still don't see why you just

couldn't take your PGCE here instead of traipsing round the world. It's not safe."

Urgh! Cat hated it when her mum started on this subject. Mrs. Adams was convinced

the world was not the safest place at the best of times, but when it came to her youngest

daughter, she was convinced it was utterly barbaric and uncivilised.

"I just want to see the world whilst I can Mum. Jay saw New Zealand during his

elective, and you were quite prepared for Claire to move to Australia."

"Yes, but that before she met Craig. She's quite content staying in Newcastle now."

Cat rolled her eyes. Claire was all set to move to Australia but she had met

her now fiancée one night and decided to stick around in England to see how it

panned out. As luck would have it, it worked out so well that they were now planning their

wedding for the following year. Cat was happy for her sister, her and Craig were made for

each other and she would give anything to have a relationship like they had, but she had

never even had a serious boyfriend (despite a reputation of being quite a flirt at uni), even

her sister had encouraged her to see the world whilst she could.

"Life's short Cat" Claire Adams had said just before graduation, "You're young,

single, you've got nothing tying you down. There's plenty of time for relationships later. Go

out and have some fun!" This advice however, was not shared by their mother, who carried

on her tirade:

"Your brother had to go somewhere Cat! It was part of his course! Besides, it was

only for seven weeks. His jobs going well now, he may be promoted to registrar soon, and

Sophie's doing well too."

Cat sighed inwardly. She was in no doubt that her mother loved her, but it was the

running joke with her and Claire that Jamie Adams was the adored favourite of their

mother, always at the top of his classes and the only one of the three Adams children to

become a doctor (only an anaesatist, but still, Cat never doubted his ambition and hard

work). It was also the thorn in her and her sister's sides that their father had expected his

daughters to marry doctors . Claire was marrying a bank manager, but considered that

because she was a Nurse, that was close enough to his ambitions. Cat on the other hand,

had two views on doctors. One was that they were great drinking buddys but secondly, that

they were utter tossers when it came to relationships. And as for a medical career, well

contrary to her siblings, Cat's History degree was in no way, shape or form in any stretch of

the imagination, linked to the NHS, so she considered herself the oddball of the family. She

had considered a degree in psychology which she thought to be good to become a

psychologist, but her brothers taunts about it been a cop out with medicine were enough to

make her decide to go with what she was good at and do a degree in History. With Jamie

both a qualified doctor and engaged to another doctor (Sophie, who Cat actually got along

with), Cat decided he covered her enough when it came to their father.

"I'm glad Jay and Soph are ok mum, have to go, starting at school today. Just pray

that I don't get eaten by American kids."

"Oh, be off with you." Chuckled her mum. Cat was about to put the phone down

when she remembered the film advert in the paper from last night.

"Oh yeah, and tell Claire a new films out over here she'd like about some escaped

lunatic or something. I'll wait till I come back to see it. It should be out in England when I get

back."

"Tell her yourself, she'll probably call you tomorrow."

"You mean tonight for me mum?"

"Urgh! I Can't get my head around this time zone difference! Go on. You

don't want to be late for your first day"

"Bye Mum, give my love to Dad."

Little did either of them know that that would be the last time Cat would ever speak

to any member of her family ever again.

Cat hung up the phone and hurried out the door. The school was only a block away

from her apartment but she wanted to make sure she found her way there in enough time

(she was notorious at her uni's rambling society for been unable to follow a simple set of

instructions. The first and last time she had been allowed to lead a group, she had gotten so

spectacularly lost that they had been found four hours later than the pickup, 10 miles away

from the actual walking route). The sun was shining that morning, and Cat was in better

attire to blend into the crowd even more. Her bushy hair had been washed and straightened

and even though it was its usual mud colour, Cat liked to think that it made her look

prettier. Her simple long red flowery dress and white cardigan were enough to say that she

was still young and girly, but old and mature enough to be allowed to teach high school kids.

She loved walking through the street. Even though it was clear that this was a deprived part

of town, she was still irresistibly reminded of the street in Friends where Central Perk was. It

was typically American, compared to concrete suburbia back home, or the thick jungle of

Thailand. Besides, she thought, if it was actually dangerous, than that'll only be at night.

Things that go bump in the night and all that.

She was immediately assigned to help supervise a History Class, headed by Miss

Hannah Lyons, a good natured, slightly eccentric 25 year old woman who had lived in

Gotham all her life, apart from a semester when she was 20 when she had briefly studied

English History.

Been so close in age and sharing similar interests, the two women warmed to each other

at once.

"So tell me." Cat said to Hannah 5 minutes before the bell went for the first class of

the day to begin, "What's it like here?"

"Here? Oh it's lovely really." Hannah said smirking. "I mean, the kids can be right

douches, but smile and think of the weekend and you'll survive."

"That bad?" asked Cat naively. Hannah giggled.

"Oh don't worry, if they step out of line, just give them a look. You have nice

eyes, but they look as if they could cut a guy to size if you were truly pissed."

Cat blushed and looked down. It was always commented on that her eyes were her

best feature, they were big and brown, but she just saw them as ridiculous and bulging and

thought that they gave her the look of a demented madwoman at best. A fat toad at worst.

Actually, the first half of her first day went by quite pleasantly. Just as in Thailand,

she was addressed as "Miss Adams" and like university, the classes quite happily got into

group discussions about American history. However, halfway through the last period before

lunch, Cat faced her first challenge in the form of a particularly unpleasant "jock" called Billy

Cowel.

"So you from England Miss?"

"Yes Billy. Please continue with your assignment."

"You can't be English Miss! You don't speak posh like the Queen."

_Idiot child. "_I'm not from London Billy, I'm from a place up north called Leeds,

I'm afraid not all of us speak like the queen or Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins."

"Leeds Miss? Are you sure that you haven't made that up?"

Cat was becoming more and more aware of the class giggling at her expense. Trying

hard not to blush and fighting her natural shyness, she looked as calmly as she could at Billy.

Summoning as much authority as she could when all she really wanted to do was go into the

bathroom and cry and check her make up to make sure she didn't look a mess, she said

"No Billy, now are you going to finish your work or would you like to finish it in

detention?" Billy's face suddenly darkened.

"You know what I would like Miss Adams?"He snarled, jumping up out of his seat,

"How about liking to give you a hard fuck behind the chemistry building?" Cat panicked and

screamed .

"BILLY COWEL!"

Hannah Lyons , who had been observing the situation from her desk hurdled

towards the back where Billy was. Restraining him, she inwardly cursed herself. Cat had to

learn at some point, that she would come up against difficult students, it was something she

had to learn quickly in this profession, or drown. Actually she had thought that Cat was

handling the situation rather well to say it was her first time dealing with teenagers.

However, Billy had over stepped the mark, no one, not even one who had been teaching for

years should come up against that sort of behaviour.

"Detention Mr. Cowell" Hannah hissed quietly "And you can be sure as Hell, the

headmaster will be informed." The rest of the class were staring at Cat, whose colour had

drained from her face. Most looked on with pity, however, a few were giggling at the

brilliant way that the new assistant had been humiliated. In the deathly quiet atmosphere,

a bell suddenly began to ring. Lunchtime.

"I am so sorry!" Hannah cried when they were alone. "I didn't think it would go that far!"

"Don't think anything of it" Cat assured, trying to sound as if she didn't care, but

really, inside, she was dying.

"Look." Hannah said, "I completely failed there, not you! Let me make it up to you.

We have an hour's period for lunch, let me treat you. There's a really nice Delhi down the

road, my treat."

"Hannah, it's fine" Cat snapped angrily, before adopting a strained smile to try and

smooth the tense atmosphere, "I mean, lunch sounds great, but I don't want your money!

I'll pay for myself. Hang on, I'm assuming this Delhi doesn't take plastic?"

"Sorry hun, only cash."

"Bugger! Ah well. Is there a bank around here?"

"Actually, yes. Just round the corner. It's on the way so it's no trouble.

Now. Let me clue you in into exactly what type of place the Narrows is"

On the way to the bank, Hannah told Cat a wide range of things Cat would never

imagine would be ever said. Apparently in Gotham, superheroes were quite common.

Gotham's main superhero was someone called "Batman" (no prizes for guessing what he

dressed as), who drove around in a "Batmo-bile" and who protected the city from a host of

colourful characters.

"The most famous is the Joker." Hannah said, brushing her auburn locks out of her

Eyes and surveying the long line at Gotham First National Bank, "He's a clown, bit

psychopathic, but to be honest, you wouldn't kick him out of bed

easily."

Hannah spun round in the queue to the cashier. "What? Er..why?" Hannah giggled.

"Two reasons really. One, He'd probably kill you if you attempted it. Two, I'd say he's

the most gorgeous, apparently, he has a reputation for been a bit of a charmer. Apparently

he seduced his doctor once, been on the run with her ever since. You can imagine how

jealous I was when that came to the news"

"Whatever turns you on." Cat giggled, rolling her eyes. "So guessing that's what this

new films about?"

"Hannah looked at her quizzically. "What film?"

"Oh about some escaped convict who wears a saa..."

"BANG!"

Cat's conversation was cut short by an explosion. Instinctivley, she dived to the floor,

grabbing Hannah down with her and curling up into the foetal position.

"Crap! This must be what the cabbie was on about!" Moaned Cat, trying to not shake

with fear.

"Welcome to the narrows hun." Hannah tried to joke, but was taking her locket off

and hiding it in her bra as they spoke. "Sorry, this day isn't turning out to be..."

"Quiet." Snapped a rather burly man in black leather and a gas masks who suddenly

appeared. He kicked Hannah hard in the stomach and carried on walking to the till.

"Hannah!" Screamed Cat, sitting up to help her prostrate friend, who was coughing

and trying to breath.

"Silence!"

Cat looked up slowly. From the door, more burly men in leather and gas masks came

through the door slowly. More and more people on the floor were screaming now.

However, they soon quietened when the big men in the middle moved to reveal who had

commanded silence.

"Oh God." Whispered Cat. Earlier, She had joked to herself that she wasn't in Kansas

anymore. She mentally scratched that. She wasn't in reality anymore.

The same figure from the paper last night was stood before her. He was taller than

she had actually imagined. Much taller. This, coupled with the fact that he was painfully thin

and his once stylish suit was in tatters, gave this Burlap wearing freak the look of a...of a...

"Dr Crane please!" Screamed one woman from the floor, "I was a nurse at Arkham

when you were in charge, plea..."

"There is no Crane here" The figure sneered coldly, "only Scarecrow!"

_Oh god oh god oh god oh god. _Thought Cat, petrified. She had Hannah's head in her

lap and she was sat up, staring at a man who could as well be Leatherface, or Jigsaw. An

hour ago, she was thinking that this guy was a film character, and here he was, right in front

of her. What happened next gave her a heart attack.

He looked at her.

"Ah, someone who isn't afraid of me." He said, almost in a whisper. His voice was so

deep and low, Cat had to stop for a moment and think about what was said.

"I'm...wait what!"

Looking around desperately to see if he was talking about someone...anybody else, she saw

she was the only one sat up. Everybody else seemed to be curled up as small as they could,

and silent, as if waiting for something inevitable and terrible to happen. Plus, she reasoned

to herself, if she was looking right at him, it's easy to see how he thought she wasn't afraid.

"Perhaps I need to teach you all some respect to the all mighty God of fear." Crane,

or whoever he was laughed cruelly and threw out his hands. Before she could form a

sentence in her head to wonder what was going on, gas came out of his hands. The room

erupted in blood curdling screams and people began writhing around the floor:

"NOOOO! SPIDERS! GET THEM OFF ME!"

"DADDY, PLEASE. DON'T HURT ME!"

"WASPS! I DON'T WANT TO DIEE!"

Cat collapsed to the floor, she felt cold and weak. Looking up, she saw a group of people

surround her. She didn't need to think about who they were. Laura Cherry from year 9,

Danny Williams from her running club, a tall, well built dark haired teenager who went by

the name of Harry Tyler and a gaggle of girls, her housemates from her first year of

university. They suddenly descended on her like Vultures and she felt her entire body erupt

in pain.

"Freak"

"Nerd"

"Witch"

The insults went on and on like this, despite not physically attacking her, Cat was in so much

pain, coupled with a sound that drove fear into the very depths of her heart. Wasps buzzing.

She clamped her mouth down and suppressed a sob. Her eyes filled with tears. God! What

have I done to deserve this? She thought desperately. She shut her eyes, but still the insults

came. She partially opened her eyes, hoping they were gone, but to her horror, a figure was

standing directly over her. It looked like Laura Cherry, but the image kept going fuzzy so

that she could swear that Laura was wearing a burlap sack over her head. Cat did the only

thing she could think of with a girl she couldn't stand, even now. She punched her. Square in

the face.

"OWWWWW!"

Scarecrow had just been leaning over this small doll like figure of a girl, intentionally to

observe his handy work whilst the goons collected the money (such dirty work was below a

genius like him), but he soon became interested to see why this child was not rolling around

on the ground screaming like everyone else. If it hadn't been for the tensed up body and

the tears leaking from the shut eyes, he could have sworn she was dead. That changed

however, when she partially opened her eyes. To his delight, he saw fear in them. But

suddenly, they changed. They changed to something most peculiar. He had leaned in to get

a better look, when a fist had suddenly connected with his eye.

"_OWWWW!" _Screamed Jonathan within the confides of his mind. _"What the hell? Why _

_the hell did you let that happen? I felt that too you know!"_

"Quiet." Scarecrow snapped. He knew that was not meant to happen, he was going

to need to teach this girl a lesson, he did not need Jonathan pointing out the bloody

obvious.

"I see you have a little fight in you" The Scarecrow crooned, grabbing the front of

Cat's dress and pulling her towards him menacingly. "Usually, I admit, I like that. However,

right now, I think you need to be taught some respect to me." Before slamming her head

down onto the cold tiled floor with such force, it was a wonder Cat's Brain didn't spill out

onto the floor.

Scarecrow stood up, trying to ignore the sheer pain in his eye, and spat on her. "Foolish

child." He sneered, moving towards the vault unacosted to check progress.

Cat lay on the floor, seeing stars. The tormentors now had taken the form of men in

suits, all looking down on her, telling her she'd failed her degree, telling her she'd been

delusional going to the university she had, it was no place for a small town poor person like

herself. Cat was barely paying any attention to them though, the back of her head was

killing her and she felt dizzy. She leaned over to her side and vomited all over the floor.

"Oh god." She whispered weakly, "I want to go home. I want my mum!" weeping

weakly, she vaguely made out a tall black figure. He swooped across the room, almost as if

he was flying.

"Enough Crane." The figure growled. Jesus, Cat though, if I thought Scarecrow's voice

was low, it's normal compared to this guy!

"The buildings surrounded, I'm taking you and your scum in."

Scarecrow looked at Batman coolly. "Ah, Bat. Man. I see you came prepared this time. I

must say, gas masks really don't suit your costume. Get him boys."

Four of the burley henchmen lunged at the dark figure whilst the Scarecrow turned

round and commanded the rest to follow him. Cat put her head down on the floor, feeling

another wave of nausea come over her, the room was getting darker, god, she just wanted

to sleep!

"Scarecrow! We're surrounded!" Yelled one of the gas masked henchmen who had

been in the vault all this time.

Scarecrow did not look impressed.

"Do something about it then you fool." He snapped angrily. The man nodded.

Looking around quickly, he saw the shivering Cat by his feet, fighting to stay awake.

"You'll do." He said simply. Cat, feeling his bucket sized hand around the back of her

neck, began screaming. Batman looked up to see a young woman being dragged along with

the exiting Scarecrow and his goons by one henchman who by now, had put a gun to the

girl's temple.

"No!" He yelled, stepping forward to help her. The man drove the gun into Cat's

temple even more, threateningly.

"Try it Batman, and this pretty piece of ass gets her brains blown all over that wall

over there."

Cat whimpered at the thought of this. She could no longer see figures or made up

figures from her past, now, she could clearly see the guy who Hannah had described as

Batman. The room was still spinning and she still felt cold, but she looked at him pleadingly.

"Please...please help me." She croaked, the gas had made her lose her ability to

speak. She kept eye contact with this mysterious Dark Knight as she was dragged away.

Batman watched in horror as she was thrown into the back of a waiting van and it drove

away, all police outside not daring to shoot lest they harm the hostage. Batman stood there

shocked, brought back to reality sharply with Hannah's terrified screams.

"Oh my god! He got Cat! Please, oh god! Please help her!"

**A/N: Whew! That was longer than I thought it would be! Ah well, did say that this was an epic lol. Please review! They're great to let me know what people think (and links me to all Scarecrow fan girls out there). How's Johnny gonna react when he sees that the hostage is the girl who rather unceremoniously punched him? (did giggle writing that bit) Hopefully, everyone was in character. Till next time folks xxx**


	3. You don't get something for nothing

**Wow, chapter 3 already! Hopefully you're enjoying it so far. Personally, I've loved writing this so far, but now I'm excited because Dr. Crane's made an appearance, and believe me, he isn't going anywhere. As always, rate and review (and all Scarecrow fangirls out there give me a wave!) Thanks must go to my friend Alex for looking over the first two chapters before I put them up and for not judging me for firstly reading and secondly, for been utterly in love with a fictional character (and be glad you're not going to see Inception with me, judging by that high pitch squeal I gave when I saw Cillian Murphy on screen for 5 secs, I doubt I could survive an entire movie with me either lol). From here, the story kicks off. In the words of the Joker in the Dark Knight: "And here...we...GO!" **

**Chapter 3: You don't get something for nothing**

"Oh god!" Cat thought deliriously, "I'm either dead or dying and there's no one here who

cares. I swear mama, if I get out of this alive, I swear I'll come home and never leave again!

Please, please just let me live."

Scarecrow was sat in the passenger's seat leaning out of the window holding a gun

along with the rest of the remaining henchmen who had gotten into the van in time, all on

the lookout for the Dark Knight. All except one that is.

The henchman who went by the name of Eddie Del Mayo had ripped off his gas mask

by this point, but still held the gun to the hostage's head, albeit, rather unenthusiastically by

now when he saw the girl go limp and was practically unconscious.

"Hey boss, I think the hostage may need help." He called to Crane. Jonathan Crane

ripped off his mask and looked to the back with utter contempt.

"Eddie, I think that's a bit of a given to see the situation she's currently in don't you

think?" He snarled. The Scarecrow had insisted on performing a bank heist in the middle of

the day (to remind people that fear could be felt anywhere, anytime he had told Jonathan),

and he was currently hurdling around the backstreets of the Narrows at top speeds,

watching out for Batman. Whilst he had appreciated Eddie's quick thinking in grabbing a

hostage ("who would be useful later" he thought evilly), he had no time to worry about it

right now. However, to placate his most faithful henchman, he gave the slightest of glances

down its way.

"Probably just a side effect of my fear toxin. It should pass momentarily." Whilst

saying this however, Cat ceased murmuring gibberish to herself and fell into a complete

state of unconsciousness. Eddie sighed and nodded. Anything the psycho wanted, just as

long as he got his share by the end.

After hours of driving around, Crane declared that it was safe to return to the

Hideout. Parking up outside what appeared to be an abandoned house, the henchmen

began pilling out of the van until only Eddie and a comatose Cat were left. Eddie looked

down at her and observed exactly what he had got this time.

"Huh, not pretty is she? I've seen better."

"I highly doubt that seeing as I doubt "anybody better" would have you."

Crane stated coolly, suddenly appearing by Eddie's side. This gave the large henchman a

huge fright and he jumped. Knocking Cat's head from the position it had been fixed in all

this time. Crane looked down at her frowning.

"Eddie, exactly how long has our guest been unconscious?" Eddie frowned back.

"Uh, not sure boss. But like you said, it's only a side effect, nothing out of the

ordinary right?"

"Hmm, that may be Eddie" Crane said, his expression deadpan, "But I somehow

doubt the blood coming out the back of her head is anything to do with my fear toxin."

Eddie looked at the villain blankly for a second before looking down at his charge slowly.

"Jesus!" He yelled. Shocked to see both his arm and the floor covered in blood. He

looked up at his employer. Crane still observed Cat as if she was nothing more than the days

paper in Eddie's arms.

"I'll er...dump her somewhere away from here." Eddie said shyly. He knew that

expression on Crane, it usually meant trouble. Crane looked up questioningly. His words

slow.

"And why would you do a thing like that hmmm?" Eddie dropped his gaze.

Something bad was going to happen here, something unpleasant.

"Well er..." He stuttered. "I just figured seeing as we've gotten away now, there's no

need to keep her hostage and well...she needs a doctor." Crane did not look impressed.

There was a deathly silence, Eddie was fully aware of those cold blue eyes staring at him.

Penetrating his very soul like a knife.

"Eddie." He simply said after what seemed like forever, "What am I?"Eddie looked

up. Right now, he was well and truly confused.

"Er...the Scarecrow sir?"

"Well yes, but what else?"

Utterley confused. "Jonathan Crane sir?"

"Very good. But what is my official title?"

"Doctor Crane?" Crane bowed his head.

"Very good, doctor Crane." He repeated quickly and simply, placing emphasis on the

"doctor" part. "So I don't think we need to take her anywhere else do you? Now take our

guest upstairs. She can sleep on my bed right now until I can make other arrangements. "

Eddie nodded and began to move.

"Why keep her?" The Scarecrow demanded, "Like Eddie says, we don't need her

Anymore, let's just shoot her in the head and be done with it." In his head, Crane raised an

eyebrow.

"I need her for experimentation. Our last subject..ah...became unsuitable."

"Oh, what now?" Sighed the Scarecrow exasperatedly, "We go through these

test subjects too quickly."

"Oh, he bit his own tongue off this morning whilst everyone was asleep." Crane said

simply, as if he was discussing nothing more troubling than saying "Mum's gone to get milk"

to another family member. Scarecrow clicked his tongue. "Pathetic." He sighed. "These

subjects aren't the most co-operativ...hey! Hang on! Give me control."

To the untrained eye, you would think that Doctor Crane had simply developed a

cold by this point, his voice became more scratchy and deep. However, if Eddie had been

looking, he would have seen Doctor Crane's cold ice blue eyes go suddenly darker. And then

he would have known to start fleeing.

"Oh Eddie." Scarecrow's deep, savage voice whispered dangerously. Eddie stopped

just outside the door to the hideout and tensed up. That voice filled him with such terror

that he nearly dropped Cat. "Let me see that hostage again."

Eddie spun round slowly, full of dread. Scarecrow stalked up to the pair slowly, in the

manner of a dangerous animal about to strike at its prey. He held Cat's chin as he looked

down, carefully observing her face.

"Why. The. Hell have you brought this bitch to my hideout." He spat veminously.

Both Crane and Eddie looked up confused.

"What's up now?" Asked Jonathan exasperatedly, now adopting the air of

asking a small child why they wouldn't wear the clothes they needed to put on that

morning.

"Er, boss, are you ok?" Eddie asked carefully, watching the movement of his bosses'

eyes. He knew he needn't have bothered though, Scarecrow and Crane were having an

inner debate, Eddie may as well not have existed. The Scarecrow seized Cat's face again, this

time with more force.

"Look at her Johnny-boy." He snarled angrily. Crane looked at Cat properly for the

first time without being distracted or adopting a medical air. It took him a while, but he

finally raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Hey, isn't that..."

"Yeah, the bitch from the bank who punched us." Snapped the Scarecrow

furiously. Again, he threw Cat's head against Eddie's shoulder, this time with as much force

as he could muster.

"We kill her." He said shortly to Crane. "We kill her slowly and stick her head up on a

spike outside Gotham Police Station. I want to see the bitch burn."

"I don't think so." Crane snapped. "I need a new test subject. Trust me, you'll have

your revenge, but right now, I need her."

"Either that or you're desperate for a fuck." Scarecrow snapped back

contemptuously. "I don't care what you do with her, just make sure she suffers. I want her

swinging from the rafters with insanity. At the very least." With this, he stormed away from

the front of Crane's mind to the darkest, unexplored regions of the human brain to sulk.

Jonathan returned to full control of his body and smiled his professional psychologist smile

that he used to give prison wardens and judges in his glory days as the head of Arkham.

"Take our guest to my room immediately Eddy. She needs stitches. I'll be with you

presently."

"Errr...ok boss." Eddie agreed, hurrying into the hideout. He paused and looked out

of the window to watch Crane walking slowly back to the van to retrieve his precious

Scarecrow mask. He looked down again at Cat, her breathing had returned to normal.

"Whatever you did to the boss, you didn't deserve to end up here. I hope you're

strong in the head. You may last longer if you have."

And with that, he carried her up the creaking stairs towards the bedroom Jonathan Crane

had claimed for his own, yet seldom slept in.

_Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj Pj .Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj _

Cat's head was killing her. A low, thudding pain beat around her head with every heart beat,

every breath.

"What am I doing here?" She asked herself inwardly, "What's going on?"

And then it all came back to her. The confrontation with Billy, the promise of lunch, the

bank...oh god! The realisation that the man in the burlap sack wasn't a fictional character.

Hang on. Something had happened. The man in the burlap sack...the man in the burlap sack.

Batman...Hannah screaming...Hannah screaming.

She sat up quickly, but stopped as soon as she felt a hard pull on her arms. Opening

her eyes as much as she could, though everything was still fuzzy, she was pleasantly

surprised (and surprised that she was pleasantly surprised) to find herself in a dimly lit

room, which was easy on her eyes. However, her happiness was short lived when she

realised that both her hands were handcuffed to the iron headboard. Taking time to get her

bearings, she realised on top of this that she was lying on her stomach. She suddenly felt

another wave of nausea. As Jamie would say "You're in way over your head."

"Ah, awake I see." A voice echoed in her head somewhere in the corner of the room.

Cat looked to her side. Even though the room was still spinning, and she felt like she was on

a boat, she could still make out the man sat on the chair. Cat could tell that he was

unnaturally tall, even though he was sat down. He had a thin face, complete with high

cheekbones which were framed by a long mane of thick, black, wavy hair. He was too far

away to make out eye colour, but Cat could see he was wearing thin, metal frames. Judging

from the frayed outfit he was wearing, they were the only expensive things he had left. He

got up off the chair and came and sat on the bed.

"What's going on?" Cat asked timidly. She suddenly felt incredibly dizzy, she couldn't

keep her head up. She put it back on the pillow, groaning.

"Shhh, don't exert yourself." The mysterious man said softly, "You needed stitches

and you have a concussion, I Just need to check your eyes." He said, turning on a small torch

in his hand.

"Please look at me if you can?"

Cat obediently looked up. Crane was shone the light in her eye and looked down to

observe the damage his companion had inflicted on his new subject. However, when he

looked into Cat's brown eyes, he nearly dropped the small light in his hand. He struggled to

gain composure, but was thankful that the young girl was rather out of it at this point and so

did not seem to notice. After a while shinning the light in both eyes, he managed to

stammer, "you need to rest. Don't worry, what you're feeling now will pass."

"Thank you." Cat murmured softly and dropped her head back onto the pillow.

Crane watched until he was satisfied from Cat's change in breathing that she was asleep

again. He stood up to leave the room, still shaking slightly. Scarecrow looked on from the

corner of the room in disgust.

"What the fuck was that?" Demanded Scarecrow when Jonathan had gotten to the

basement of the derelict house where he had set up a temporary lab. Jonathan shrugged his

shoulders.

"Honestly? I don't know. I actually don't know what came over me. I went to check

her pupils, but those eyes. Did you see them? It felt as if she was staring straight into me. As

if she could read my thoughts. As if she could see into my soul." Scarecrow snorted in

disgust.

"That'd be poetic...if it wasn't so sad. Now, when can we start making her suffer?"

Crane sighed loudly. "Is there anything about humans that actually touches you?"

This was met by a snort of derision by his companion.

"No, it's a sign of the weakness. If you insist, I'd say that she had a good pair of legs.

Nothing more. Now when?"

Crane rolled his eyes. "Tomorrow, when she wakes up. The concussion should have

passed by then the variables won't be external, we can control them. She'll be suitable for

testing then."

"Sutiable? Ah there's the Johnny boy I know. So what do we need to do first?" Crane

smiled. It would be a long night of mixing up a new batch of chemicals. Just him and the

Scarecrow whilst the mortals of Gotham slept. There was no better experience.

_Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj Pj .Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj. Pj _

_ Cat was in a schoolyard, completely surrounded. It was wierd though, the crowd _

_consisted of everyone in her life she had met. Seeing Harry Tyler, she ran up to him. _

_ "Can you let me out Harry...please?" She asked shyly, going bright red and lowering _

_her eyes. Damn, why did he always have this effect on her? The tall rugby player smiled and _

_side stepped to let her pass. She put her head down and went to pass him, when he suddenly _

_grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her to the ground._

_ "Disgusting." Harry said with utter contempt, "how the hell did you think I'd ever go _

_out with a disgustingly sad thing like you?" The girls in the crowd now giggled evilly._

_ "Yeah, look at her, she's so fat!" Screeched one girl (whom Cat recognised from her _

_university drama society). Even though she knew she shouldn't, Cat could feel the hot prick _

_of tears in her eyes. _

_ "Look! She's actually crying!" Laura Cherry cried gleefully. Cat couldn't bear it _

_anymore and shut her eyes tight._

Opening them again, Cat found herself on a mattress which gave off the faint smell of

mildew, like it hadn't been washed in a while. She closed her eyes again, still paralyzed from

the fear of the dream. She was glad that scene had never happened in real life, she doubted

that her mind would have been able to handle it and she would have cried.

Letting the fear pass, Cat opened her eyes to get a good look at the room she was in.

She was still handcuffed and on her stomach (though that didn't surprise her as she vaguely

remembered learning about this the night before). She still had her clothes on from

yesterday as well, so it was a good sign that she hadn't been raped. She looked around the

room. If she thought that her apartment had been sparsely decorated, then it was

Buckingham palace compared to this. From what she could figure, the antique Victorian bed

was the only piece of furniture in the room (the chair had long since been removed). It was

still dark, at first, Cat assumed that it was the middle of the night, but then saw that the

windows had been bricked up. The only light came from a lone light bulb in the middle of

the room, giving off only a dim hue. The floorboards were bare, and some missing, exposing

the broken pipes underneath. In short, Cat was reminded of the Saw films and shuddered.

She looked around for a small TV set which would tell her to cut off her own arms or

something. Luckily for her, that didn't seem to be the case.

"Hmmm, trust me to get kidnapped on my first day!" muttered Cat, half annoyed,

half joking to try and slow down her heart, which was beating ten to the dozen in sheer

panic. "No no, seriously." She continued, trying to calm her heart, "In Thailand, all I got was

marriage proposals. They suddenly don't seem as stupid now...oh god why couldn't I have

gone to New York like every other backpacker! Or New Orleans? Would have met

Lestat...actually, scratch that. If that creep in the Burlap sack is around, he more than makes

Up for the lack of dangerous things that would want to kill me." She giggled nervously to

herself. She was becoming more and more aware that her arms were seriously beginning to

kill in their position right now. "Hmmm, wonder where that guy is? Or actually, even,

where's that doctor who came in here. He was real right? I didn't make him up or

anything?"

As if reading her mind, the door creaked open. Cat looked up to see (for the first

time without him looking hazy) Dr. Jonathan Crane. That is, if she actually knew who he was.

On top of this, if she knew who he really was, she wouldn't be looking at him as neutrally as

she was now ("which is why" Jonathan reasoned, "She's not screaming right now.").

"How are we feeling today?" He asked, his tone falsely bright and professional.

"Er...better thank you doc. Assuming you're a doctor right?" Cat asked, looking up at

the very tall man standing over her in the bed. Crane nodded. Cat suddenly felt incredibly

annoyed, what the hell? I'm handcuffed to the bed and this guy's acting as if I've just

come to his surgery with a cold?

"Look, not to sound rude or anything Doc." Though clearly, with the sarcasm

dripping from her mouth, she did. "But what the fuck? Last thing I remember was been

kidnapped by some freak in a mask (the Scarecrow growled inwardly, Crane grabbed him

round the waist in his mind) and now I wake up and I'm handcuffed to a bed. If it's not **TOO **

much trouble, care to tell me what the fuck's going on?"

Jonathan smiled and sat on the bed. "You're not from around here are you?" Cat

shook her head. "I can tell by your accent. Well then, I'll start at the very beginning. I am

Doctor Jonathan Crane, I'm quite famous in these parts, perhaps you've heard of me?"

Again, Cat shook her head slowly. Crane's smile became strained now. "What about my

associate? The Scarecrow?" Cat strained her mind to remember that name, it was strangely

familiar.

"Wait, I know that name." Said Cat, "Is he something to do with the Joker?" Crane's

eyes glazed over darkly, in that instant, she knew that she had said the wrong thing.

"No! I'm fucking not anything to do with the Joker." Snarled Scarecrow, slapping Cat

hard across the face. She squealed.

"We haven't been formally introduced either." He growled, seizing her chin and

pulling her inches from his face. Cat screamed in pain, her arms felt as if they were been

pulled out of her sockets. She noticed the large black bruise on the man's right eye behind

his glasses. It was partially closed. Cat suddenly felt her nausea come back.

"Oh my god!" She said dizzily, she thought she was going to faint, "It's you from the

bank! You're...you're..."

"Scarecrow." He declared, his tone one to strike fear into any of the hardiest

criminals. Cat shrunk back from him the best that she could. This was to no avail, his grip

was pincer like and now, cutting into her cheeks. "And you're the bitch who gave me this

black eye. Oh believe me, I'll make you pay for that later. Right now however, you're going

to help my friend here." Cat looked into his eyes, unlike Crane, Scarecrow wasn't going to be

put off by them. On the contrary, he relished the fear in them.

"And how exactly am I going to help you?" She stammered shakily. She saw the cold

eyes lighten up subtly.

"By helping me in my experiments." Crane answered, his voice returning to normal.

"You see my dear, I'm a rather ethical scientist, I don't experiment on animals, so you're

going to have to help me out a bit, I have a new fear toxin to play around with, and I need a

second opinion on how it works."

"Oh god!" Cat shrieked in her head, "This is worst than Saw! Oh no! This is more

like the Human Centipede!"

"And why, exactly, would I want to help you?" Cat asked, with as much strength as

she could handle. She immediately regretted it when she saw the look in his eye.

"Because child, you don't get something for nothing. I stitched up the back of your

head, if you look at your hands, you have IV tube hooked to them. I did all that, plus you've

slept in my bed for an entire day now. Now, show some manners and return the favour."

"You're the one who split my head open." Snapped Cat, "You're the one who

kidnapped me, so no, I owe you nothing. Go to Hell." _Oh why are you been so stupid? _Her

inner voice yelled at her. Crane seemed to share this sentiment. He sighed, leaned away

from Cat with her chin still cupped in his hands. Suddenly, he leaned forward quickly,

head butting Cat violently whilst the Scarecrow looked on cheering. Cat saw an explosion of

stars before blacking out.

"Ah, poor child." Crane said as he unhooked the cuffs on Cat's hands. "I would have

given you a sedative to get you down to the basement if you were that worried. This ways

much more painful."

Picking up the hostage in his arms like that of a fireman, Crane carried the unconscious Cat

down to the basement, passing Eddie on the way who diverted his eyes. From now on, it

would be easier to think of her like a guinea pig instead of a human, he wouldn't be as

troubled by her screams if she was.


	4. Can You Feel the Fear? Isn't it Divine?

**Hey folks. 4****th**** chapter up in two days, I'm on a roll. Shout out to Madness is Me for the first (and hopefully not last) review of this fic. Reviews make the Scarecrow in me happy :) Hopefully you're liking this so far, I know I've rated it as a romance, but that's not coming for a LONG while yet, so if anybody has a sadistic side, they can pander to it here (told you it'd be a dark and twisted relationship!) I actually wrote a later chapter today because I was ill and couldn't bear the idea of typing up rather mean scenes involving my favourite Psychiatrist. Ah well, hangover passed, now to some evil authorship (is that even a word?). **

**Chapter 4: Can You Feel the Fear? Isn't it Divine?**

_Clutching the rail, Cat allowed herself to lean back. It felt amazing pretending to be able to fly like a _

_bird. Holding tightly with one hand, she quickly leaned forward and switched hands. Lean back. _

_Lean forward. Suddenly, she went to quickly went to switch hands, but her sweaty palm simply_

_swept the rail. Her heart exploded as she threw both hands forward, trying desperately to grab on _

_again before falling into the dark abyss. Further and further, the concrete floor rushing to meet her..._

"Oh my god!" She screamed, jerking herself awake. She'd fallen on her back, she must be dead.

She felt her body erupt in pain, a strangled scream bellowing from her lungs.

"Enough!" A strong voice commanded. Cat's scream died in her throat, replaced by a hard

groan. Her body wasn't in agony, but her nose was killing her. She opened her eyes and looked up.

Crane stood above her, observing her over his glasses. She moved to punch him, to kick him.

Honestly, she wanted to try anything to try and fight off whatever he was planning to do with her,

but she was paralyzed. Looking down at herself, she moaned softly to see that she was tied down

with thick leather straps, around her wrists, her ankles and across her torso, holding her in place.

"I must say, I've had many test subjects on this table," Crane announced happily, as though

expecting Cat to share in his enthusiasm, "None screamed before they realised where they were

until today. Tell me, what were you dreaming about?" Cat looked at him hard in the eye. She saw his

shoulders tense up when she did, but his eyes remained cool, looking at her expectantly. She held

her tongue for a second, then spat in Crane's eye, right on target.

Crane stared coldly at her for a second (Cat could swear that they momentarily changed

colour), before sighing and reaching into a side pocket in his jacket.

"Oh Jesus! You've done it now!" Her mind screamed at her, mentally ducking for cover,

"Why provoke him?" At that moment, Cat agreed herself and closed her eyes, her stomach dropping

at the anticipation of pain she was about to feel. Crane looked down at her whilst raising an

eyebrow, pulling a handkerchief out and wiping the spit off of his eye. Cat slowly opened one eye to

see him stare at her blankly whilst wiping with his left hand. She let out a sigh of relief at the thought

of getting off lightly, when he brought his right thumb to her nose and pressed down hard. It felt as

if someone had rammed a white hot weight into her nose and she screamed a paint stripping

scream.

When he was satisfied that she had suffered enough, he removed it. Whilst she gasped and moaned,

not even able to writhe in pain, Crane continued to regard her with interest.

"I broke your nose when I subdued you to bring you down here." He informed her breezily,

"Consider it retribution for my eye. From now on, I will never mention it again and you will never

mention your nose. Consider it a mercy though, from now on, if you defy me, I have the perfect

deterrent. This way, there will be no need to summon the Scarecrow. I trust you don't want to see

him anytime soon either?" Cat closed her eyes and shook her head. "Very good. Now, what did you

dream about?"

Cat continued to stare at him silently. She had no intention of telling this psycho a childhood

memory which still had the power to keep her awake at night. Crane sighed, as if he was dealing

with a difficult child, and brought his thumb down to Cat's nose slowly.

"No! Please don't!" She screamed, Crane's thumb mere millimetres from her bruised nose.

Crane paused.

"Well?"

"It was a childhood memory." Cat said carefully. "My brother and sister used to swim

competitively, so whilst my parents focused on them, you know, I was left to my own devices. My

favourite way of entertaining myself was to climb over the barrier in the stairwell and lean back.

Don't ask me why, I just saw it as a big thrill. One day, I was leaning back, then leaning forward and

switching hands, and my hand didn't grab the rail. I mean, it probably did, but my palms must have

been sweaty because it slipped. I've never been more scared in my life, I fell backwards and nearly

fell about 4 stories, but I managed to grab on just in time. Though since then, I've been terrified of

heights and falling. Sometimes I still dream I'm on the stairwell and I slip, but I don't grab it in time

and I keep falling. Though I never did it again, I guess I'm such a Skinner wet dream."

Crane, who had been listening to Cat tell him something she probably never told anyone,

had to stop himself laughing when she called herself a Skinner wet dream, this one was definitely

smart. Cat watched him. For a second, she could have sworn that his lips curled. Not in a cruel way,

but as if he was amused.

"Thank you." He said civilly, bowing his head cordially as if she had opened the door for him.

"Now child, I'm going to just give you your medicine. It'll help you relax." He crooned, brining an

oxygen mask down to cover Cat's mouth. She flinched.

"It's not medicine is it? Please don't treat me like an idiot." She whimpered, any attempt she

was doing to make herself sound surly failed miserably as her voice cracked. Crane looked down, his

eyes cold.

"No." He answered simply, "But that way would have been better for you."And with that, he

briefly covered her mouth with the oxygen mask and turned the nozzle.

Wasps. Wasps suddenly appeared all over her. Crawling all over her arms, her legs, up her

thighs. Cat could feel them. She began sobbing, "Please, throw water on me!" She screamed

upwards desperately. Jonathan smiled, this new strain was certainly powerful, he had never seen

anyone scream like this before. Now, he just needed to know what the subject was so scared of.

"What can you see?" He asked surgically. Cat replied with a ear drum shattering scream.

Rolling his eyes, he sighed and began to back away, now to move up to the next level. He moved to a

table in the darkest corner, keeping an eye on the test subject and mentally recording his findings.

"Don't swallow Cathy." Her father's voice echoed in her mind, from a summer holiday so

long ago. "Whatever you do, don't open your mouth." Remembering Daddy's words, she was there

again, standing in that field, her foot gone through the paper hive, wasps buzzing around furiously.

Her Dad running up to his youngest daughter, ignoring the buzzing wasps stinging him.

"Keep it shut Catherine! Emma! Get water! Call an ambulance!" Her Dad's voice rang in her

ears, mixing now with the repetitive angry buzzes from the wasps in the lab. Cat clamped her lips

down and closed her eyes.

"Look at me!" A deep, scratchy voice commanded from the present. Cat turned her head to the side

and clamped both her mouth and eyes down more.

"LOOK AT ME!" The voice screamed, seizing her face and turning it sharply. Cat felt her

neck jar painfully. Her eyes snapped open. Crane had returned, his face now covered by his burlap

sack.

"TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE!" He roared. Cat's mouth dropped open and a hysterical, sanity

destroyed scream bellowed from her mouth. Wasps were coming out of his mouth, spraying onto

her. Crane smiled evily from behind the mask.

"Can you feel it child? Can you feel your fear? Can you? Isn't it divine?" The Scarecrow

crooned to her. He loved this part, whilst Jonathan couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes ("I

can't look, I see judgement day in those eyes" He moaned, hiding in his mind"), Scarecrow hungrily

stared into them. The wide eyed fear reflected there was orgasmic. He suddenly stopped laughing,

Jonathan was screaming at him to stop.

"Something's gone wrong. Look!" He screamed at Scarecrow, forcing his way back into

control.

Cat was choking. Whilst screaming, the wasps had poured into her her open mouth. She

could now feel them stinging her tongue, crawling over her vocal chords. She had never felt pain like

this in her life, she was dying! She would die by wasps, alone and in pain. She couldn't breathe, she

couldn't breathe.

Crane injected her with the antidote, hoping that she recovered before she went completely

over the edge. He had had a few cases where the subject was so overcome with fear that they

completely lost their minds and became utterly catatonic. He once attempted to spray a victim after

this and they had just stared at him inanely, giggling and drooling. That subject had ended up locked

in Arkham. It didn't bother Crane, but it was a pain dumping them, then tracking another

replacement.

"It's over now." He said coldly as Cat wept weakly, shaking violently, "how are you feeling?"

Cat stared at him blankly. At first, Crane supposed that she had been pushed over the edge.

Sighing, he began making plans in his head for a new toxin and plans on dumping the subject.

Suddenly, Cat turned her head to the side and vomited. Crane raised his eyebrows to see it was

bloody. The subject had screamed so much that she had ruptured a vessel in her throat. She turned

her eyes back to the watching doctor.

"The wasps...are they gone?" She asked weakly, "I can't hear them anymore. Am I dead?"

Crane smiled with satisfaction. He could use this one for another experiment another day.

"No child, you're not dead. But they're gone. Is that what you saw? Wasps?" Cat nodded

weakly, tears pouring out of her eyes.

"Thank God." She whispered, before passing out. Crane regarded the unconscious subject.

Rummaging around in a medical bag next to the table on the floor, he pulled out a number of

instruments. After checking her over, he unstrapped her and carried her to a side room next to the

basement. Placing her on a single mattress on the floor. As he watched, Scarecrow came and stood

beside him.

"Back to the drawing board then." He muttered coolly. Crane nodded.

"I can't use this drug! It's not subtle enough. I'm the Master of Fear, not the Lord of

Bloody Vomit." He snapped, turning on his heels and stomping out of the room. The Scarecrow

gazed at Cat briefly and chuckled evilly.

"You can't deny Johnny Boy, it certainly has a ring to it." As Crane motioned for him to exit so that he

could bolt the heavy steel door.


	5. Indirect Introductions

**Next up, chapter 5. Time for some psychology avec our favourite doc (or at least, some A level psychology and whatever I can get off Wikipedia...pop psychology at it's worst, my assumptions are unfounded and my training if any, is shoddy at best...yep, the jokers got me down to a tee), just so that we know what he's thinking.**

**Chapter 5: Indirect Introductions**

Crane lay on his bed. Proud of himself for breaking his old record of 5 days, it had been 6 days since

he last slept. However, his bed did serve one purpose, getting away from his hired goons. How he

despised them, the blood suckers, they usually served him on about 2 jobs before they moved on to

the next villain needing their services. Only one, Eddie Del Mayo had stuck around after the usual

two jobs. Eddie had been in Crane's pay going on 4 years now, since he was in charge at Arkham and

had committed Eddie as insane to get out of doing some jail time in exchange for future services.

Here however, he was alone, just the way he liked it. Usually, he just sat and contemplated

psychology. Now however, he was rifling through a new object never seen in his hideout before.

Cat's brown handbag which she had been carrying the day of the bank heist (going on four days ago

now). He had found it in the van that day whilst retrieving his mask, but had thrown it to the side

when he first went into the room to see the subject, throwing it into a corner. Now however, it had

attracted his interest and was a welcome distraction from his ongoing rivalry with Strange. Opening

it up, he found himself in a treasure trove of the subject's mind, learning all he needed to learn from

this simple object.

Looking at her passport which she carried for ID, he learnt his subject's name ("Catherine

Marie Adams? I think we'll forget that name." He muttered to himself. He hated giving subjects

names, it was harder to test on them when they seemed real), age (twenty one, twenty two in

September), but Crane was more interested in the bag's contents rather than learning about the

obvious. He always maintained that it was easier to learn about a person just by looking in their bag.

Cat did not disappoint him.

"A strange amount of makeup, even for a woman." He commented aloud, "clearly

she has some body confidence issues" His suspicions were justified in his head when he pulled out

an empty wrapper for a diet bar called "Special K" (must be exclusive to the UK he thought). He

continued rummaging. In her purse, he saw something which told him about the subject. Her purse

contained only one photo. A dog. A black and tan dog in a garden, sat on a patio, tongue stuck out.

Clearly the subject had a large amount of affection for this animal, as he searched through some

more and failed to find anymore pictures, let alone ones with humans in it.

"Didn't she say she had a brother and sister?" He asked no one in particular. Unlike him, the

Scarecrow had no trouble sleeping, and was presently curled up in the recesses of Cranes mind.

Jonathan asked again, "Didn't she say she had a brother?" Nothing. He sighed, he wasn't one for

company, but he hated not having the Scarecrow to talk to, he felt so powerless without him. He

looked in the small bag again. He pulled out a small, dinted digital camera. Clicking it on, he flicked

through picture after picture of the subject, some with exotic animals, others with her posing with

Asian children.

"You can tell she's one of those rich English university students." He muttered coldly. He felt

a surge of hate course through him. When he was a student, he was close to starvation, he didn't

have rich parents supporting him. He continued flicking in disgust. Finally, he found a picture not

from Thailand. It was a picture of Cat at her graduation. He scowled at a certain picture, it was Cat in

her cap and gown, flanked by, what he supposed were her parents (Crane noted that she had a huge

resemblance to her mother, they had the same eyes but Cat had longer hair). At Jonathan's

graduation, he had graduated first in his class, and had given a speech, but who had been there for

him? His father had abandoned him before he was born and his mother had disappeared. All he had

was his grandmother growing up, but thankfully, the bitch was dead before he had gotten to

university. Crane had seen to that personally. Flicking to the next picture, he saw Cat in her cap and

gown again, this time, cuddling a girl. Like her mother, this girl with Cat had the same eyes and same

coloured hair, apart from the hair was shorter, much finer than Cat's, she was thinner and had a

longer face and much taller, but she had the same bright smile as the girl in the side room in the

basement. So full of hope, so bloody happy to be alive. It was too much for Jonathan who threw the

camera into the wall with disgust.

"English middle class with a bloody perfect nuclear family unit." Jonathan snapped in

disgust, "So cliché and normal it's not even funny." In sheer jealously, Jonathan felt a surge of

hatred towards his subject.

Cat stirred awake, her nose slightly throbbing. It was dark in this room too, but unlike the bedroom

Crane had told her was his own, this one didn't have a light bulb in it, dim or otherwise. She closed

her eyes to get her bearings the best she could. She could tell that she was on her back, feeling

around carefully, she could make out that she was on a mattress on the floor (and this time, her

hands weren't handcuffed. "Small blessings" she thought) wriggling her legs and body, she could

make out she wasn't restricted at all. Waiting until she had counted to ten, Cat opened her eyes

again ("Thanks so much Adam" She smiled, remembering the guy she'd nicknamed "Bear Grylls" at

her uni's rambling society who told her how to see better in the dark) she could make out the

outline of a door.

"This is mental!" She croaked to herself. "I'm nothing special! I'm me! Why is he still holding

on to me?" Her stomach rumbled.

"How long have I been here?" She muttered to herself, "I don't think I've eaten since I've

been here. Though that guy may have fed me when I was asleep, hang on, he doesn't seem like the

caring type." She giggled weakly to herself at her own stupid joke. Picking herself up, she felt her

way to what she thought was the door. Running her hands over it, she felt it was cold yet smooth. It

must be metal enforced.

"In space, no one can hear you scream." She sighed. She swayed slightly, a wave of hunger

passing over her. Wondering again how long she had eaten, she sat back down on her bed.

"I know we may be young and I know that you may love me..." Cat began singing, her head

felt light, but she felt like she'd slept enough now (even if she hadn't any sense of space or time).

"ALEJANDRO, ALEJANDRO...ALEJ..ALE.J ANDAROOOOO!"

BANG!

"SHUT UPPPP!" Screamed a voice, banging on the door. Cat stopped singing and put her head to one side.

"So I see that the door's not as thick as I thought." She wondered aloud. She must have said

it louder than she intended because the man on the other side screamed back "No, it's bloody not!

I'm trying to watch South Park upstairs! I've put up with you screaming for the last few days! I don't

want to hear that bloody racket now!" Cat dropped her mouth in disbelief.

"You've put up with me? Jeez, try walking a mile in my shoes will you?" She snapped angrily,

"I've had my nose broken, I've been gassed! I'm assuming you've never been gassed have you? It's

no bloody picnic! I should be teaching in a bloody high school now, going out at night and sinking

cocktails! Where am I huh? I'm god knows where been starved by freaks! I went to the bank and I

got kidnapped by FREAKS!" Cat collapsed at this, in a fit of tears. The days of starvation and torture

drowning her. The man on the other side of the door clearly felt uncomfortable as she could hear

him shifting from one foot to the other.

"Look, I'm sorry." The voice said, full of sincerity, "You were just there! I didn't want to go

back to prison, you were just there..."

"YOU?" Cat screeched, leaping up off the ground and throwing herself at the door,

banging her fists against it hard. She felt the skin come off her knuckles and the blood dripping down

her arms. She didn't care. If it took her forever, she would break down that door and throttle the

man on the other side of the door. Eddie backed away from the door gingerly.

"Keep it down will you?" He whispered "you'll bring the boss down here! "

"Too late Eddie?" Crane said coldly, appearing by Eddie's side silently, clutching an iron.

Even though the Scarecrow had no qualms walking around in a tattered suit, when Crane wasn't

doing a job, he liked to take pride in his appearance and was ironing a shirt when he firstly heard

what could only be described as an animal in a tumble dryer (he never liked pop music that much),

then Eddie yelling, before hearing the subject screaming. Feeling a headache form and deciding that

it sounded like she wasn't going to be stopping anytime soon, he went down to investigate.

"I see our guest has revealed her newest fear." He uttered silkily to the metal door. "A fear

of the dark? You do have some very boring fears my dear, but of the dark? My my, how drole." This

was met by a furious roar on the other side of the door.

"I'm not scared of the dark you cocky, arrogant son of a bitch." Screamed the hysterical Cat.

"You think this is fear? This is anger buddy, pure unadulterated fiery anger! Let me out of here now

you psycho! Do it, or I swear, I'll break down this door and rip your bloody throat out." Crane raised

an eyebrow.

"Dear dear, I don't like your language." He chuckled, Eddie backed away slowly. "I'd think

you'd want to keep a civil tongue in your head around me, show some respect to the God of Fear."

At this declaration, Cat stopped screaming and banging the door. Crane wondered if she had

collapsed from exhaustion and was about to walk away. Just as he was about to turn however, he

heard something he never expected to hear from the subject.

Laughter

Cat guaffed, then giggled, suddenly descending into an uninhibited witch's cackle. Despite

the fact that she was fast becoming more and more light headed, she clutched the wall and

continued screeching in laughter.

"What is this? Hollywood?" She screeched in laughter, "Who the hell do you think you are?

Some generic villain? Some bloody brilliant Bond villain huh? Let me guess, you're the evil

mastermind with a psychotic streak? News flash honey, this is real life, you're nothing special,

there's no defining reason to be like this!. Oh wait, you have daddy issues? No, your grandmother's

in the attic? Do you usually walk around in that tattered suit, or is that just for jobs? Are you usually

in her Sunday dress? Am I getting warm? Oh hang on, am I way off? Is this just a really bad show of

teenage angst? Did you **EVER **get laid at school? Freak."

Crane had been stood at the door all this time, a throbbing vein appearing on his forehead.

When he heard the last part of Cat's rant, he growled. The bitch had gone too far. Usually weak and

eager to avoid losing his rag unless the Scarecrow inhabited his mind, Crane felt the anger consume

him. She wanted a psycho? She'd get a psycho. Driving the lock back and bursting through the door,

he beheld Cat leaning weakly against the back wall for support, her hair, greasy, wild, bushy, her face

covered in snot and her hands bloody. She looked insane. Her eyes however stood out to Jonathan.

They showed the exhaustion and starvation she was feeling, they were red from crying, but they

were still fiery from anger, burning. For once however, they did not unnerve Crane. He stared hard

at them. Those disrespectable, rude, defiant eyes. He raised the hand holding the still warm iron and

struck Cat as hard as he could across the face. Cat screamed as she went flying and crashed into the

left wall. Rolling over and looking up, she saw Crane tower above her, bright light behind him. She

stared into his eyes, expecting to see those dark, glazed iris's which resonated destruction. Instead,

she saw they were full of tears.

"Catherine Marie Adams" He whispered angrily, "You're no longer the spoilt girl from your

expensive house in England. You're my prisoner, you understand? You're worthless! You're below an

animal in your worth to me! You dare speak to me like that again and I'll drown you like a dog.

Understand?"

Cat stared up at him through a haze of her own tears. How the hell did he know her name?

This thought was cut off quickly, when she felt a sharp kick in her ribs.

"UNDERSTAND?" Crane screamed, spittle spraying Cat. She nodded, closing her eyes tight

and hissing in pain. Crane marched out of the cell and slammed the door. Eddie was pressed up

against the wall, praying that he would be forgotten. No such luck, Jonathan snapped his head

towards him.

"I don't want to hear from her? UNDERSTAND? You keep that bitch quiet. Cut out her

tongue for all I care, just make sure she's quiet until I need her." Eddie secretly counted his blessings

that it was only Crane shouting at him. If she had spoken to the Scarecrow like that, Eddie didn't

doubt that it would be He who would lose his tongue, on top of Cat. He nodded mutely.

"Don't worry boss, the slut won't bother ya." Crane gave him a look for a second, of pain and

confusion, before stalking up the stairs and slamming the basement door. He looked towards the

door for a second, compassion swelling for the poor girl inside who was sobbing, unaware that Eddie

had remained.

"Poor kid." He thought.

"She started it." Reasoned Eddie's criminal side, "Only a person with a death wish

would talk to the boss like that!" Criminal he may be, but Eddie was still human.

"Shush, don't talk like that! She's just hungry." He muttered aloud. Sighing and hating himself for the

amount of misery he was responsible for putting the girl through, he headed back up the stairs,

leaving Cat to weep herself to sleep.

_P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j P.j_

An hour later, Cat woke with a start. The metal door (which she had learnt the hard way, was not as

heavy as she first thought) was creaking open slowly. She stared at it. If she could have, she'd have

stood up and ran through it, ready to take on anybody on the other side. She didn't care, she just

needed to get out of this cell, she hated not been able to control the situation she was in, it terrified

her. Right now however, she had no choice. She would not be able to run anywhere for a while,

starving, injured and dehydrated, all she could do was look up weakly, waiting for Crane to come in

with his mask and drag her to her next experiment.

Eddie sidled into the tiny box of a room, his arms full of treats for the pitiful state of the girl

laying at his feet.

_ "_I know you want to escape, but you can't." He whispered to her gruffly, "And I know you

want to kill me for what I've done to you. I've wronged you worst than Crane ever could because I

gave you to him. One day, I'll be sorry for harming you, until then, eat, you need to stay strong if you

ever think you can survive this place." And with that, he laid a large bucket of chicken and a bottle of

water the size of his arm by her with a torch. He looked at her piteously. Cat stared up, her eyes

brimming with tears of gratitude. She meant to say thank you to the first person to show her

kindness in...a long while. On the other hand, what came out instead was:

"What time is it?" Eddie looked at his watch.

"Half eleven at night. You've been here for four days now." Cat smiled weakly.

"Thank you" Eddie blushed.

"Eat your chicken fast ok?" And with that, he left. Cat stared at the

food on the floor, illuminated by the torch, for a split second before jumping on the bucket and

devouring it ravenously. That night, she slept more soundly than she had ever slept since her

kidnapping, finally having food and been properly hydrated.

Up two floors however, whilst Cat slept soundly below, Crane had finally succumbed to

sleep, tossing and turning and moaning softly in fear whilst the Scarecrow looked on on the side of

the bed, his hand on Crane's shoulder.

**Ok, one, two, three...*Hugs Jonathan* Please don't hate my character for going loco and screaming that at Crane, it's vital for the story (in fact, a lot of this chapter's foreshadowing for future chapters, so keep your eyes peeled). You know, despite the fact that I've written a few chapters when this is actually a romance, right now, I'm wondering how the hell I'm going to get these two to fall in love at this point (because you know, nothing screams "I love you" like smashing an iron in your loved ones face lol) ah well, at least I have a dialogue opened up with them now lol. Stick around for some creativity.**

** Just to explaim Cat a bit, I know her fears are a bit common, but that's the point, she's just a normal person, I wanted her to be believable which I don't think she is if she's scared of belly buttons (That's an actual fear on the phobia list, check it out, I'm not making it up lol), plus how Cat's scared of heights and falling is the reason I am (I was 6 years old at the time), though I've never put my foot through a wasps nest, now that would be terrifying! I hope you guys like her, trust me, as she loses her grip on reality, she becomes more interesting.**

**Peace out xxxx**


	6. You're Not Like All the Rest

**Hey folks. **

**I just want to thank everyone who's added this story to their story alerts. I hope I haven't disappointed you so far, it means a lot to me that you're reading and (hopefully) enjoying the story. Sorry if this chapter's smaller than usual, it's been a long day, plus, this chapter's really to mark the change in direction of the story now. Forget Saw where it's nothing but torture, think more Closet Land (if you haven't seen this film, youtube it. It's got Alan Rickman in it and it's utterly fantastic), as I want to speed Jonathan and Cat's relationship along, which is hard to do when he's torturing her/ starving her/ smashing her face in with irons. I mean, I love Cillian Murphy to death but if he was beating me up when I first meet him, I'd think twice before bringing him home to meet my mum. That and it's also hard when she's basically calling him Norman Bates. So yeah, after this chapter, I'm going to be turning this from a snuff story to more of a dark psychological thriller. Hope you enjoy it. **

**Artemis**

**Chapter 6: You're Not Like All the Rest**

Cat sighed on the filthy mattress, pulling her legs up to her stomach for warmth, one hand on her

cheek. She had to admit, she'd had a better sleep that night than she had since her kidnapping, but

she still woke up shivering from the unbearable cold.

"I guess Crane's not the type to pay the gas bill on time." She muttered to herself, giggling.

Shifting positions slightly, she began piecing together exactly what she was intending to do. Now

that she had eaten, she felt her brain whirl and click. Despite the force Crane had used when he

slammed the iron into her last night, it wasn't as hot as it could have been, and she could feel all her

teeth remained in position. In her mind, her conscience was upbraiding her.

"Why the hell would you say that to him? And you called him a psycho? You're the one with

no brain cells! You're lucky the Scarecrow wasn't there, otherwise you'd be dead missy!" Cat

groaned.

"Look, it was a mistake ok? I wasn't thinking straight!"

"Well, you'd better be thinking now, you owe Jonathan an apology." She did a double take.

"What? Are you serious? Apologise to the psycho who kidnapped me and is currently in the

process of torturing me?"

"Think about this logically." Her mind reasoned, "he's the one with all the cards. If you

apologise to him, I don't know, he may give you privileges, I don't know if you've thought about

yourself recently, but you could do with a shower, your hair's gross!"

"And I can feel spots, oh god, I need my make up bag, I feel like a fishmonger's wife." Cat

groaned in agreement with herself. "Plus it would be nice to get out of these clothes."

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness." A voice growled from the other side of the

door. Cat sat up. She knew that low growl, oh god, the Scarecrow was here. She pressed herself up

against the back wall in fear.

"What do you want? Is it time for an experiment?" She whimpered. Scarecrow smiled from

behind the door, she was scared. Good. He was going to make the bitch pay for what she had said to

Crane (He didn't know exactly what had been said, but it was clear from Crane's nightmare last night

and his refusal to talk to the Scarecrow this morning that the slut had touched a nerve).

"No, not another experiment. Are you away from the door?"

"Y-yes." She whispered, clearly uneasy with what she knew was coming.

"I'm going to open the door. Try anything and I warn you, I have a gun. I'll pop one in

each of your kneecaps. Understand."

"Y-yes" Cat squeakily repeated, pushing herself back more into the wall, wishing that it

would just swallow her up.

The door swung open and Cat looked up to see Crane in pyjamas. Cat's eyes flicked to his

body. He was so thin, he made his pyjamas (which were probably the smallest size around) appear

baggy. She looked up into Crane's eyes, but they were darker than usual. That meant only one thing.

"Does Crane know that you've come to talk to me Scarecrow?" She asked quietly. Scarecrow

raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know I'm not Crane?" Cat stared at the floor.

"I think can tell whose speaking usually, your eyes change colour when you switch people."

"That's rather observant of you." He growled. Cat turned pink.

"It's a bad ha-habit." She whispered. Suddenly, she saw a foot flying her way and

squealed, diving out of the way. Looking up, she saw the Scarecrow looking down on her with

ferocious contempt.

"What the hell did you say to Johnny Boy you little slut?"

Cat looked up in utter fear. Gone was the sarcasm, the silky, arrogant tones of

Crane. The Scarecrow was blunt when he was threatening her. To be honest, she didn't know which

of the two she hated more.

"I...I" Cat stuttered shakily, before diving again to avoid another kick.

"TELL ME WHAT YOU SAID TO HIM." Scarecrow was screaming. Cat opened her

mouth, conscious that a wrong remark could result in a severe beating, maybe even death.

"I...I called him a freak." She whispered, fearing the pain which was coming her way, "I may

have yelled a load of other stuff at him, I'm sorry! I don't remember. I wasn't thinking straight at the

time, I was starving! I hadn't eaten I hadn't drank! It just slipped out! I'm sorry! I'm really sor..."

Whilst she was on the floor rambling her apology. Scarecrow took his chance and kicked her

hard in the ribs. Down Cat went, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

"Save your apologies for someone who gives a damn." He spat, grabbing the front of her

rather grubby dress and pulling her up. "At the bank, I split your head open, I was foolish enough

enough not to smash it completely. Johnny may have been foolish to stitch your head back together

last time. This time, I'm gonna carry on banging your head on this floor till I can't see the cement

anymore for your blood. Say goodnight princess."

Cat's head screamed for mercy, her heart exploded in her chest and images of her dog

gambolling in fields flashed across her mind. This was really it. This was the end...Oh God!

"You care about him don't you?" She screamed suddenly, just as the Scarecrow pulled her

forward. He stopped and stared at her in disbelief. At that moment, Crane, who had fallen asleep

that morning after a difficult night, stirred, and opened his eyes to see the subject from the night

before screaming "You care about him don't you?" He stared blankly.

"What the hell are you doing?" He demanded to Scarecrow in his mind. Scarecrow raised an eyebrow.

"Well you weren't gonna tell me what happened last night, I decided to find out for myself.

And you know what Johnny-Boy? I've decided you're too soft. We should have killed this bitch when

we had the chance. I won't have her insulting us like she did again!"

"Us?"

This conversation may have taken 5 minutes in normal time, but in Crane's mind, it was

instantaneous. Cat opened her eyes slowly to see Crane's eyes flickering. It appeared that the

doctor was in. Scarecrow looked down at Cat. Ignoring Crane's retort, he growled a sigh and nodded.

"Yeah, I do." Cat smiled.

"I had an imaginary friend once." She replied softly, "She was called Psyche. I wish she was

still around sometimes. Is that what you were when Crane was young? His imaginary friend?"

Both Jonathan and Scarecrow looked down at Cat in utter disbelief. Did the subject not

understand the situation, she was going to die, and she was speaking to the Scarecrow like they

were discussing the news.

"Give me control." Said Crane excitedly, struggling to get the words out his mouth as her

was speaking so fast. He looked down.

"You're not like all the rest you know?" he said to her methodically. Cat looked into his eyes.

"Like all the what Dr. Crane?" She asked shakily, noting the change in persona.

"Like all the rest of my test subjects." He replied, still breathless from excitement.

"Most end up dumped in Arkham but a large majority end up dead, either by their own hand, or his.

I've seen many come and go, most scream for mercy, or mention loved ones. You did not, you...you

don't even try and reason with him, you ask him a question from our childhood?" He pulled her up

close to him, as his hand was still clutching her dress, "What mind game are you playing?" Cat

gasped for breath.

"I'm not, at least, I don't think so. He just reminded me of me, he reminded me of Psyche! I

don't know, it just slipped out." She finished lamely.

Crane let the grubby cotton fall from his long, thin fingers, watching her fall to the ground

with a sudden "umph!" and stood up.

"Psyche? Rather an unusual name for a childhood creation isn't it?" Cat blushed.

This was going to be embarrassing.

"Well...er...I went on a family holiday when I was about five," She stuttered. Jesus, she

hated explaining this. The other girls always giggled when she mentioned Psyche when she was little.

When she was older, it had been met with a simple "You freak" when she giggled that she used to

have an imaginary friend called Psyche. "And my parents were big on sightseeing and took me into

this museum. There were loads of statues there, but there was one about the God Eros, you know?

Aphrodite's son. Well he was kissing another statue and the plaque said that she was his wife,

Psyche. I don't know, when I was five, I thought it was a pretty name." Finishing, she turned bright

pink, waiting for the insults to start.

Crane stood up slowly. "Psyche. Such an unusual name. And appropriate too." He said,

turning around and leaving the room. As soon as the door was closed, Scarecrow began his

onslaught.

"What the hell! What's going on? Why won't you let me kill that bitch?" He demanded

furiously. Crane turned to look at him, smiling.

"Enough torture, I want to really crack her. I'm going to study her properly now, I want to

know exactly what's going on in that little head of hers." The Scarecrow looked on dumbfounded.

"Er...run that by me again?" Crane sighed.

"Don't you get it? Did you hear that name? It can't be a coincidence! I want to know

exactly who Catherine Marie Adams is, I've found the perfect way to destroy her."

"What the fuck are you on about Johnny?" Growled Scarecrow, starting to get annoyed.

Crane began losing patience too.

"The name! The name! Remember what it means?" He paused.

"How. The. Hell. am I supposed to know what it means?" he burst out. Crane's jaw

slackened in annoyance.

"Psyche, Scarecrow. Psyche. Roughly translated it means..._mind."_

_P.J. P.J . ..JPJ...JPJPJPJP.._

Cat sat for almost two hours on her mattress, utterly dumbfounded.

"What the hell was that?" She asked inwardly.

"How am I supposed to know?" Her mind answered back.

"So...I guess being allowed to still breath oxygen counts as a privilege

then?"

"Must do. What exactly did you say to him to bring Crane out? I was too busy making my

peace with God, or Buddah or that guy on the KFC bucket to hear. Oh, by the way, when he left, you

wet yourself. Yeah...lovely"

"Er...I don't know, I think I mentioned Psyche at one point. To be honest, it's all a blur. I

didn't think I'd have to explain my actions five minutes later*! I didn't think there'd be the need for

that margin of forward planning. Wait, what? Urgh! Knew I shouldn't have drank that whole bottle

last night!"

"Well whatever, if you did use your imaginary friend from when you were a child, then well

done, in a nerdy and childish way, I think it saved both our hides. Both wet and dry" Cat sighed at herself inwardly.

"It was weird though wasn't it?"

"What?"

"Well, was it just me, or did Scarecrow and Crane seem...reasonable?"

Cat had no more time to process another response. At that second, the door swung open.

She barely had time to look up when she felt her neck been pushed down and she was flung

into darkness. Someone had put a hood over her head. She struggled desperately for equilibrium as

she felt both her hands and her feet were tied together ("disgusting" muttered one unrecognisable

voice, noticing that she had wet herself. Cat flushed furiously) and she was marched away in an

unknown direction before hearing the slamming of metal doors.

_P.J. P.J . ..JPJ...JPJPJPJP.._

Batman was the first on the scene. Breaking through the bricked window, he observed the

bedroom. It was a dilapidated hole in the wall, the only thing in the room was an old bed. Looking

around, he spotted something on the floor. The smashed up remains of a silver camera.

"Jim, Crane was long gone by the time I got there. There was no sign of Catherine Adams

either. Either she's dead or he's holding her." He growled on the phone to Commissioner Gordon

back in the Batmobile. "There were traces of her, her DNA was all over, her hair on his bed, but

mostly, I think he held her in the basement. The place was covered in her hair, there was urine,

blood..."

"My God!" Gordon exclaimed in horror, "What the hell is he doing to her? Batman, you

don't think he's rape..."

"It's unlikely Jim." Batman muttered, inwardly praying he was right. "It's not Crane's style,

but I have a horrible feeling that he may be holding her for something darker."

"My God!" Jim repeated. "Her parents are coming in the morning for the television appeal.

What do I say to them? That their youngest daughter's in the hands of a madman and is currently

suffering a fate worse than death?"

"Tell them you're doing all you can. Don't worry, we'll find her." Batman assured him before

pressing the "hang up" button.

"Alfred." He said gruffly. Alfred's face appeared on the screen.

"Find anything sir?"

"The girl? No. But the funny thing was, the witness Hannah Lyons said that

Catherine was carrying a brown handbag at the time of the kidnapping. It wasn't there, Crane must

have taken it with him. But he left a camera. Her camera. There's nothing on it but pictures from

Thailand, graduation photos and some with Catherine on nights out. Why leave this and not her

phone, or ID? I doubt he needs that at all."

"Simple sir. He's sick." Alfred replied. Batman sighed.

"I don't get it Alfred! Crane's in the middle of a fierce turf war with Hugo Strange, what

makes him divert his attentions to a girl like that?"

"I don't know sir." Said Alfred, "I never majored in Psychology at university."

**A/N: Is it just me who thinks that Gary Oldman looks like Ned Flanders in the Nolan films? Ah well.**

**R/R **

**XXX**


	7. Patient Interview 1

**Chapter 7: Patient Interview #1**

47 years later:

Bruce sat by the monitor stroking his faithful black Great Dane Ace, eyeing Terry who stood by

expectantly.

"What I'm about to play you is quite disturbing Terry, I haven't played them in so long, I

can't bear to hear her voice, not at that stage! She was still at the point where I could have saved

her. And as for him! I warn you Terry, Crane's voice had a habit of staying in your mind. But I think

you need to hear these, if you need to understand why criminals actually turn to crime."

"Ah, come on Bruce!" Chuckled Terry, "I'm sure crime was sophisticated at the time and the

psychos were sick, but we've moved on in tactics. I think whatever level of psycho you had back

then, I come up against worst now." Bruce raised an eyebrow

"I highly doubt you'll come up worst than the Scarecrow. Only one could ever excel a

criminal mind like that."

"And what about this Psyche?" Terry continued, "I've already read her patient file from the

Arkham Archives, everyone knows her story! I mean, you don't go on the killing spree she did and

not get your story spread all over Dateline." Bruce growled.

"Those tapes aren't worth the plastic they're recorded on." He snapped, "She made up

everything when they interviewed her. Teased them. Liked to play Cat and Mouse did Catherine

Crane, make them think they were on a breakthrough in some area of the criminal mind before

completely backtracking. Once, she made the most respected Psychiatrist a laughing stock of the

medical community, never saw the man cry before he left her cell for the last time."

"Catherine Crane?"

"Catherine Marie Crane, nee Catherine Marie Adams."

"I thought her name was Libby Griffin? Everyone knows her as Libby Griffin! I mean,

she called herself Elizabeth Crane, but they were never married, were they?"

"Everyone's caught in the delusion that she was completely honest when it came to

the small details like her name. And yes, they were married, not in the most conventional way and

the wedding didn't end as planned, but they were married and she went by his name from then on.

It was just Arkham staff who refused to call her Crane, said it would only hamper her progress if they

did, which of course, only made her mad. Now, I want you to listen to the truth, these I found over

time, recorded before she ever set foot in Arkham and presided over the only man she has ever

been truthful to. At this time he er...used more unorthodox methods to get the truth out of her than

they ever did at Arkham. Prepare yourself Terry, these are quite shocking."

"_Patient interview 1. Dr. Crane interviewing the subject Catherine Marie Adams. Subject has been _

_refusing to co operate ever since arriving at the new premises."_

_ "Crane! What the hell! You kidnap me again and leave me locked in something no bigger _

_than a broom cupboard for god knows how long! What's going on?"_

_ "Miss Adams, you are spot on. It is in fact, a broom cupboard you're currently residing in. _

_Don't worry. My associates are fixing your room up as we speak. It should be ready for tonight."_

_(Sound of struggling)_

_ "Miss Adams, I do wish you'd stop struggling like that. You are not going anywhere I'm _

_afraid. And trust me, a straightjacket is not something you cannot get out of unassisted. Believe me. _

_I've tried."_

_(laughter)_

_ "What is this Crane? Some sick way to pass the time till you can fix up my room so that you _

_can carry on torturing me? I'm not going to play some sick version of doctors and nurses with _

_you...hang on, is this something else that turns you on? Like to play the Psychiatrist and the psycho _

_patient? Jesus, if this is how you get your kicks, you must be mental." _

_(Sound of walking. Sound of hitting, a woman screams)_

_ "Miss Adams, if you cannot keep a civil tongue in your head, I will simply negatively enforce _

_it till you train yourself out of it. Understand?"_

_ "Got bored of testing on dogs did you? Well fine, but if that's the case, make my dog food _

_extra meaty will you? I only eat the good stuff."_

_(Another slap is heard. Woman sobs) _

_ "Do not call my bluff. You know I'll do whatever I threaten."_

_(Sound of whimpering)_

_ "Now tell me, how do you like your new premises?"_

_ "I-I do-don't get it." Why did we move?"_

_ "Because my dear, we villains of society, we do not really have a fixed address. First _

_of all, the neighbours were getting suspicious of the loud screams coming from next door. Second, _

_we'd tapped into their electric and their bills had gone up rather suspiciously, not to mention, some _

_certain people are looking for me and my hideout. People I'd rather not see in a while."_

_ "You mean the Batman?"_

_ "Among others. Whilst you take up a lot of my time, you are not my main concern at _

_the minute. Next time, do not try and kick my henchmen when we switch premises."_

_ "I'll behave if they do." She growled._

_ "My dear child, they were just pointing out that you...ah...had had a bit of an accident."_

_ "They were being fucking pigs about it (*Slap* *woman exclaims in pain*) Argh! But _

_I mean it! I felt so embarrassed! But what else could I do? You put me in a room with no toilet and _

_locked me in there for four days! Speaking of which, am I to stay in these clothes for the duration of _

_my kidnapping? Because I've read the Geneva Convention Crane, you have to treat me nice."_

_ "Ah, your sense of humour still prevails I see." He said in silky tones, "though I quite agree. If _

_you are to stay here for the unforeseeable future, you need a change of clothes, simply so you don't _

_disturb my goons with that smell." Cat hissed in anger._

_P.J. P.J . ..JPJ...JPJPJPJP.._

_ "Patient interview 3. As always, Dr. Jonathan Crane, interviewing subject Catherine Adams. _

_How are you feeling today child?"_

_ "Damn you Crane! (*slap*) I mean it! What exactly was that last night?"_

_ "Last night? That my dear, was a shower. I thought you said you wanted one?" _

_ "Having Eddie come into my room and turn a hosepipe on me does not constitute a _

_shower. What it did constitute was my bed being absolutely soaked, so I apologise doc if I'm just a _

_little waspy today, I assure you, I don't mean to be." Cat spat veminously, her voice _

_dripping with sarcasm._

_ "If you treat me with respect Catherine, then you may find that you'll gain privileges like _

_actual showers and such. But I digress. How are you feeling today?"_

_ "Oh, absolutely cracking. How do you think?" Snapped Cat. Crane chose to ignore her._

_ "I want to discuss your childhood Catherine, more specifically, your relationship with _

_your siblings."_

_ "Go to hell." Spat Cat, "What in the world makes you think I'll ever tell you?"_

_ "Because," Crane's voice suddenly went deep and dangerous, Cat gasped as she _

_realised that the Scarecrow had made an appearance, "you're gonna play with me now. And I can tell _

_you...I can be..ah...persuasive."_

_(Screams are heard for a period of ten minutes mixed with electrical buzzing before they stop, _

_replaced with sobbing. Footsteps are heard)_

_ "I think we'll conclude todays session." Crane spoke to the recorder on the table, "Subject _

_appears unable to carry on the session."_

_P.J. P.J . ..JPJ...JPJPJPJP.._

_ "Follow up session. I shall continue to observe the subject, however, I shall call a break for a _

_period of revision and rest for her. The subject seems to be taking the pace of sessions badly. I believe _

_that we cannot progress in therapy until the subject recognises that I am the one in charge of the _

_sessions. Right now, I believe that her defiant attitude towards authority stems from a desire to _

_always have the last word, possibly stemming from a simple case of 'Youngest Child Syndrome.' _

_Mental note, shock therapy probably is not the most effective method of treatment. Subject has _

_become withdrawn and most uncooperative. Suggest alternative method of getting the subject to _

_open up, my associate only seems to complicate matters."_

_P.J. P.J . ..JPJ...JPJPJPJP.._

"_Patient interview 4, I have called resumed the subject's sessions. How are you feeling my dear?"_

_ "Still in pain Crane, what were you thinking?"_

_ "My apologies my dear, I'm afraid I am not responsible for my associate's behaviour. _

_However, I must stress to you once more, if you continue to be defiant, I will bring him out and you _

_will feel the consequences. Do you understand?"_

_ Cat nodded, "For the purpose of the tape dear."_

_ "Y-yes."_

_ "Good. Now, if we can continue where we left off before all the unpleasantness. _

_Now, describe to me the relationship between you and your siblings."_

_(Silence)_

_ "Miss Adams?" Crane asked, his voice still normal, but threatening._

_ "I-it's ok I guess, we get on." Crane raised an eyebrow._

_ "Oh really? Have you always gotten on well with your sister?"_

_ "Er...yeah." _

_ "Even when your parents dedicated themselves to her swimming ambitions _

_and expected you to go along with it? How old were you when she started swimming?"_

_ "I-I don't know, as long as I can remember. I just remember been 3 and wanting to stay at _

_home and watch the Simpsons, but having to go to training instead. I was never resentful though, it _

_was just the way it was."_

_ Crane peered at her from over his silver glasses. "Even if she had everything? Her parent's _

_attention...the glamorous older life with all the privileges. She was the good looking one out of you _

_two wasn't she?"_

_ "DROP IT WILL YOU!"_

_(Silence)_

_ "No! Please don't!" She screamed, seeing Crane raise a hand. He smiled evilly._

_ "Touch a nerve did I?" He crooned. "Care to expand?" _

_ Cat put her head down and wept softly. It was useless trying to resist._


	8. Private Show

**Chapter: 8 Private show**

Crane sat on his bed, viewing the image playing out on his monitor. Cat lay on her mattress, eyes

wide open, lips moving. Thinking back to the session earlier that day, he heard Cat's voice.

_ "Why are you asking me that?" She asked, eyes wide with shock. Jonathan smiled._

_ "Because my dear, you're always singing when you think you're alone, very quietly, but you forget. The Scarecrow sees and knows all. You like singing don't you Catherine?" He could see her lips thin _

_momentarily, considering not answering, but Crane could read her like a book now. _

_ Her head bowed slightly as she realised that she could not not answer him, it would only lead to another punishment. She nodded._

_ "Yes. Ever since I was little." She said simply. Crane raised his eyebrows and waited for her to continue. However, she remained quiet. He cleared his throat._

_ "I always wanted to be an actress or singer." She whispered, blushing (which Crane noted excitedly). "I'd sing and dance everywhere, the shower, doing the housework, everywhere. My _

_parents were always proud of it, I remember I played Velma in Chicago in year 8. They were very proud, signed me up to the local theatre school, you remember I told you my brother and sister swam _

_competitively? Did I? I'm sure I did. But anyway, they did that as a peace offering. Felt guilty I guess. There was one downside though, all the other kids had been classically trained, you know? Ballerina's and _

_trained sopranos. Well, I'll tell you now Doc, it wasn't a picnic, I couldn't compare to them and they knew it. So did the teachers. They put me to the back on every dance number, I never got a lead role. One _

_time, I auditioned, I stood on the stage and I sang this song I'd been rehearsing for a long time, I'd practised to all my friends and family. They told me all sorts, you know the type? I was amazing, I'd get the _

_part. Anyway, I got up on that stage and preformed. The rest of the kids started laughing, because I could reach the high notes, but not like them...not like them. I didn't get the part. The girl who did get the _

_part came up to me afterwards. Asked me why I even bothered. Told me that even the teachers were wondering the same thing, because I couldn't sing, I didn't look the part of "a beautiful heroine." Well, after _

_that, I realised that they were all staring at me, every lesson, they'd try and catch glimpses of Cat 'doing it wrong.' I quit not long after that, told my parents it didn't interest me anymore. I tried again at uni, I _

_got up on stage and sang, it was exactly the same. By this point, I'd given up on being an actress. I just wanted to perform for fun. That cut me off because they said I wasn't taking it seriously enough. When I _

_did sing with them, one of the girls made a comment I was fat, disgusting and embarrassing myself. I quit, I never went back, don't you see? I can't sing to anyone, how do I know they're not thinking that? _

_That I'm embarrassing myself?That I can't sing. It's better to stand in the corner of the party than to have them all stare. Have them all laugh. Like you are right now... Right?"_

_ "No child. I'm not. But tell me, if you despise them looking at you so much, why sing? It always makes me notice."_

_ "I don't know...I really don't (*sob*), I can't bear silences. If I sing, I'm not alone in the dark. If I sing...I can express myself better than I ever could in words, though I'm ok, I don't dance so they _

_don't look...You want to laugh don't you?"_

Crane never laughed once during that interview. He sat there noting her teenage years with interest. This girl who loved make up and socialising by the amount of worried texts and missed

calls on her phone, by all those photos he had seen of her 'clubbing,' was actually defensive, paranoidand very scared of what people thought of her. Social phobias were quite common in teenagers

and young children, but they generally grew out of it. Strange that a woman just a few weeks short of her 22nd birthday was still suffering such an irrational fear. Whilst Freud would suggest that this

social anxiety was a result of a cold mother, from what he could make out from the television appeals which ran over and over again, and from Cat's own admission, her parents loved her. No,this case

supported Williams, Kinney and Falbo's research, an unpleasant experience had caused her to close up. The numerous people's insults, she was fat, talentless. Crane closed his eyes and

remembered his own. Blocking the taunting voices before they could rise up, he opened his eyes.

Now it made sense why she carried so much make up and often berated herself when she thoughtshe was alone for 'looking like a fishmongers wife.' But he was getting ahead of himself.

Tomorrow,he would question her on her opinion of herself.

He smiled to himself. She was just every other teenage girl he had ever interviewed, so wrapped up in appearances, no matter what the reason. She reminded him of a sparrow, so numerous

along with the rest of the female population, despite the hundreds of different breeds of sparrows, they were hard to tell apart. He also crooned the gospel of Luke: "Who sees with equal eye of all,

as God of all, a hero perish, or a sparrow fall." So appropriate for the subjects current predicament, where the Scarecrow could see every minor action. Every breath. Sure, if she knew he was watching

her right now, she would clam up, head hidden in her arms and hiding from the world. Tonight however, he would show her what it felt like to be uninhibited and free for the first time in a long time.

Pushing a button on a pad, he watched as Cat looked around in the dark, hearing gas come from the unseen vents, expecting her darkest fears to be shown, he took joy in watching her look

of fear, hearing the sob issue from her mouth. She was smart, but could easily fall into a routine. Crane rolled his eyes at how easy she was giving in.

"No sparrow. Not tonight, tonight, I merely want a private show." And pressed two more buttons. One brightened up the monitor, the other one, made the instrumental version of a pop

song he had heard Cat singing the other day play out. He was satisfied when he saw her uncurl, her eyes glazed over. He sat back to watch his 'inhibition' gas take effect.

It happened very gradually. He saw Cat look around as if she was concerned that she was going mad. Then she began to smile. She pushed her mattress up against the wall and began

dancing, not exactly graceful, but a free and uninhibited form of ballet.

"Highway run

Into the midnight sun

Wheels go round and round

You're on my mind

Restless hearts

Sleep alone tonight

Sending all my love along the wire

They say that the road ain't no place to start a family

But right down the line it's been you and me..."

Jonathan watched with a smug smile. His inhibition toxin was working wonders. Whilst he knew thatbeing kidnapped probably wasn't the most relaxing thing she had ever done, he smiled

at her dancing in pirouettes and singing, not silently like she usually did, nor loudly and trying not to take herself seriously (so that people did not have a chance to criticise her if they didn't like

her voice), but singing, totally swept up in the music, uninhibited. She was right when she'd admitted that she wasn't a professional soprano, but it didn't matter. Crane had to admit, it was a sweet

voice, innocent, flawless. Much like the girl dancing as well as she could in such a small space.

"...I'm forever yours, faithfully." Cat finished, bending her knee into a graceful pose. Crane smiled. The girl was so tied down by fear, by anxiety imposed by the shackles of society that she

had taught herself to suppress her natural instincts, her natural self. It gave him joy to watch the girl who would look at him with nothing but fear in her eyes to feel powerful, if only for four minutes.

"I don't like your taste in porn Johnny-Boy." Scarecrow growled. Crane sighed.

"There is no poetry in your soul Scarecrow." Jonathan muttered.

"You have no concept of arousing material." Scarecrow countered, "My idea of such does not extend to Journey."

**A/N: Williams, Kinney and Falbo's research into fear of what people think is incredibly interesting for all you budding psychologists out there, if you fancy checking it out? Ok, this chapter's my shortest yet, but I like it. It was good writing Jonathan as playing a game of Cat and mouse, getting into her head and then playing with her mind instead of just plain torturing her. Told you it would be like Closet Land. I'm aiming to portray him more as Hannibal Lecter here, as I see Crane as the sort to play with people's minds instead of just torturing them. What do you think? **

**Btw, the song Crane made Cat sing, for anyone interested, was Journey's Faithfully. Was planning on making her dance to JLS's 'The Club is Alive,' but then Glee came on on my Spotify and I decided I loved that version so much I had to make her sing it. **


	9. Breaking News

**Chapter 9: Breaking News**

Cat's eyes fluttered open when she heard the light bulb flash on. She was used to it now, it was one of Crane's mind games. With the windows bricked up, she had no way of telling if it was morning

or the middle of the night, leaving her with no concept of time or space when he would come in with a chair and tape recorder for their sessions. At first, she hated it, when she thought that the light

came on in the morning, she would mentally make a note of how many days she had been held, thinking she could at least stay in control in that way, but Crane grew wise to Cat's thinking somehow

(he always seemed to know exactly what Cat was thinking) and turned the light on for a session regardless of night or day, or even just to wake her up then turn it back off again. Now, she had

gotten used to it, going along with his saying "Time is a human abstract Miss Adams. Here, in this

room, time does not exist." She had to admit, there was a certain amount of

freedom not being tied to time.

She sat up in bed, glancing around the room she was now used to. It was larger than the old room, and thankfully, nothing like the closet she had been forced into when they first moved,

and small blessings, this room, rather than like the first room, had a toilet in the corner, and a sink to brush her teeth in. She still slept on a mattress on the floor, which was still uncomfortable, but

was comfier than anything she had slept on in Thailand. She turned over, bringing her knees up to her chest for warmth. She was grateful that every day, Crane threw different clothes at her now, but

she had to smile that the guy had no concept of what women wore. Right now, she was in a man's white shirt and a pair of black shorts and she was freezing. She thought about her experience. She

had wanted to get away from concrete suburbia back in England and had certainly gotten it.

"How weird it'll be when this is over." She whispered to herself. "How differently life will be." She smiled at the noticeable changes. One, because she wasn't wearing make up, she could

feel that her skin wasn't as spotty as it used to be (Crane had put a mirror in her room as a privilege with her make up bag, but when she spent a lot of time putting make up on and starring at herself

in the mirror, he took it away). Second, she was sleeping without her teddy, which was probably still on her unmade bed back in her apartment. Funny, the bear she had slept with since she was two

and now,probably would throw it out as soon as this ordeal had ended.

Suddenly, the light went out again. Cat closed her eyes didn't pay much attention, it was just every day now, and she had long grown used to Crane's mind games like this.

Suddenly, she could see through her closed eyes that there was a flash of bright light. She looked up, confused. When she saw what was on the wall, her mouth fell open in complete shock.

Crane smiled wickedly from the other room, staring at his monitor. He had been waiting for weeks now, ever since their session when they had discussed her dog.

"_You prefer animals to humans don't you Cat?" He asked, his voice emphatic and _

_professional._

_ "Well don't you?" She asked him back. Inwardly, his breath hitched, he had not expected her to still be defiant and assertive as this. On the other hand, he knew he couldn't punish her, her eyes _

_weren't fierce, they were sincere, her voice wasn't sarcastic, she was asking a genuine question._

_ "This isn't about me." He said, side stepping her question. She raised her eyebrows._

_ "Come on Crane, I'm interested. Quid pro quo?" She asked playfully. Crane let a small smile play around on his lips._

_ "Very well Miss Adams. Ladies first."_

_ "Yes, I do. I guess it all started when I was bullied at school. I hated it, nobody wanted to be friends with the school nerd."_

_ "The nerd?" Crane asked. His eyes widened slightly in shock. Cat blushed._

_ "When you said I must resent my sister, you were wrong. I love my sister. It's me and my brother who don't get on. The boy genius. The wonder child. He was always the smart one, _

_when I was learning to read, it was kind of overshadowed that 'Cat could read,' when five year old Jamiecame out with algebra equations. So growing up, I aimed to surpass him, get the attention he did. Our _

_parents always gave rewards for achieving at school, I wanted a playstation and all that too. It got me by. By the age of seven, I could name the entire lineage of the English royal family off by heart, reading the _

_Bell Jar. It got the attention I wanted off my parents, but alienated me a bit fromthe other kids. I preferred getting home to my pet rabbits, I could talk to them, they gave nothing butaffection. Everyone should _

_have a pet I think, they know exactly when you're upset and always ready for a hug."_

_ Crane closed his eyes. This was hitting a nerve with him. He was back on his Grandma's farm, hiding from her at the bottom of the garden, ducking under the fence to get into the field owned by the _

_neighbours. He was stroking the horses, tears falling down his cheeks as he spilt his heart out to the about why he was covered in bruises and why his nose was bloody. It was comforting to feel their hair _

_under his hands, he took the snort as a sound of comfort and love. Love and understanding he certainly wasn't going to get from Grandma._

_ "That was some time ago Miss Adams." He said, forcing himself out of his flashback. "Why do you still prefer animals to humans? Your pictures show you like your 'clubbing,' where's the _

_pictures of friends...family...boyfriends? Why do you only have a picture of a dog in your wallet?" _

_ Cat smiled stiffly._

_ "That's simple. I've never had a boyfriend. Well, not the serious kind anyway. I tried, my god, I tried. Fell in love when I was at uni. Harry he was called. Harry Tyler. In my halls you see. I thought he was _

_gorgeous, you know the sort? Dark, a rugby player. Problem was, I'm a middle class girl from the north, but he was actually aristocracy from the south. When I finally got up the courage to ask him out, he _

_rejected me, in not the nicest of ways. After that, dated a few times, but realised that guys were jerks, so just got on with my degree. Also got a job in a bar to fund it and my travels after uni, so didn't have _

_enough time for both." Crane looked up._

_ "You worked? Didn't your parents support you?"_

_ "Well they gave what they could. But they're not rich Crane, I wanted to see the world, but I had to do it myself. Why?"_

_ "I...I... no reason. So again, you reverted to animals instead of humans for love?" Cat smiled. _

_ "There was nothing better than coming home from uni for a weekend and being knocked over by a big black dog who wants nothing than to love you. I guess I loved going home for that reason more than _

_my parents. You'd love her I think, dopey, loyal..."_

_ "Black feathers and a tanned belly?" Crane finished, pulling a photo out of his jacket pocket and giving it to Cat._

_ "Oh my god! Frida!...Hang on...where did you get this?"_

Crane had to admit, hearing about her talk about concrete suburbia bored him. He was not interested at first about her life, the usual growing up in suburbia, but he couldn't help but be drawn

in with her story. He had misjudged her, she hadn't gotten everything on a plate like he had first thought, she had worked for it. She was resourceful (a rare trait you did not see in people these

days). He also felt that he had found someone who understood him, understood the worthlessness of people, people who suppress you when you in fact, tower above them.

"Stop it." Growled Scarecrow from the confides of Crane's mind, "I see where this is going. Remember what that red head student did to you?"

Crane closed his eyes and snapped at the Scarecrow to be silent. He did not need reminding of Becky Albright and her rejection of him.

"Well, this is the same." Scarecrow growled, "You're imagining she'll understand you? You're imaging...Urgh! I can't even bare to imagine it. It's pathetic."

"Shut up!" Screamed Crane into the silent room. Turning his attention away from the Scarecrow, he drew his attention to the monitor. Cat was starring in utter horror.

* * *

"It has been 7 months since the kidnapping of English graduate Catherine Adams at the

hands of the nefarious criminal Scarecrow. Tonight, Gotham News takes a look at Catherine Adams,

as her friends and family launch a new appeal for her release." Read the Newsreader, a picture of

Cat was flashing up on screen, thankfully, not her school picture, but rather, her graduation picture.

Cat stared at it open mouthed. Her hair was highlighted and straightened, she was under an inch of

make up and her cheeks were chubby and showing dimples. Now, after god knows how long in

captivity, Cat was fully aware that she had changed. She no longer wore make up (though she did

not know if that was an improvement), her hair was longer, bushier, its natural colour and she (as

her mother would have said) had let her hair revert to its natural curl. She had little time to reflect

on these changes however, as the image changed to her old 6th form.

"She's the brightest thing I've ever taught." Cried a woman whom Cat recognised as her old

English language teacher, "She always wanted to travel, it's such a tragedy its happened to her!" Cat

looked at the image dumbfounded. This woman never really gave Cat a second look when she taught

her MANY years ago, plus, Cat could not really fathom any time she had ever told that woman that

she had always wanted to travel.

Another image. This time, at the university's theatre society. Cat felt a wave of rage. Two

people were standing there whom Cat had nothing but contempt for. Will, the old president of the

society and Amy Rushton. Cat thought back, Amy, the girl who always called her fat, disgusting. Will.

The guy who she had had such a crush on for the first two years of uni, until she discovered the

rumours about her he had been spreading about her. Cat was incensed to hear the way they were

talking about her now.

"She was always there, always laughing, joking. It's hard to imagine walking into the theatre

and her not been there anymore." Said Will into the camera. Cat's jaw slackened. The guy who had

spread it around that she had slept with every guy at the society, who barely even acknowledged her

when she used to say hello and beg silently that he'd talk to her, was hamming it up, acting as if she

was dead, if only for his 5 minutes on international news.

"I can't believe it." She whispered, tears of anger threatening to fall from her eyes. The

scene switched and Cat gasped. Her parents looking older than the last time she had seen them

were sat in her living room with her sister and Frida, her precious Gordon Setter.

"Emma Adams, the victim's mother, spoke to her daughter last merely hours before her

Kidnapping. Mrs. Adams, please can you describe your daughter to us?"

"S-he-she's my baby! I just want her home safe!" Cat's mum cried, Cat felt her stomach

drop, "Sh-she's a good girl, she only ever wanted to be a teacher. I...I told her to do her qualifications

and become a teacher...why did she have to choose Gotham! It wasn't safe! She should be here!

She's going to be a bridesmaid to her sister this year! Her brother's having a baby! She should be

here! She should be at home safe! Please, whoever is holding my daughter, I just want her back."

Cat's eyes widened in shock.

"You say her brother's having a baby?" The journalist asked softly. Emma Adams nodded,

"H..his girlfriend told us she was pregnant shortly after my baby was kidnapped. Sh...she needs to be

Here, she needs to meet her niece or nephew...I just want my youngest back!" She collapsed in tears.

"A mother's plea." The newsreader appeared back on the screen, "Pure and simple. Give me

my daughter back. We caught up with Commissioner James Gordon who is heading the

investigation..."

Cat could hear no more, she didn't even stop to comprehend the fact that so much time had

passed since the kidnapping. That she was now 22 or that she had missed her traditional family

Christmas, or even that life had moved on since she was gone and that Sophie was now pregnant.

She just continued to stare at the images flickering before her. Tears streaming silently down her

Cheeks, her face deadpan.

Crane looked at the monitor, a lump of sympathy rising in his throat. He was sorry for Cat

that she had to see her family like that, but it was vital she saw the rest, he needed to raise

something with her tomorrow. To distract himself, his mind wandered back to the interview making

him cringe:

_"So come on Crane, you know why I prefer animals." Cat said starring at him playfully, "Quid _

_pro quo remember?"_

_ Crane regarded Cat with wonder at how she could still maintain her personality after telling _

_her that he had smashed her camera and destroyed her phone so that it couldn't be traced. Why was _

_she asking him this? He took in a deep breath._

_ "Yes, I prefer animals. Apart from crows." And with that, he simply stood up and left the room._

**A/N: Ok! That chapter took a lot out of me, I felt terrible writing the part when Cat sees her mum on the screen, but this was vital to the story.**

** Sorry that this chapter's up later than the rest, a lot of emotion was shown here and I wanted to do it justice and spend some time on it. That plus I went to see Inception with my parents last night. It's amazing! At one point, Paris folds over which is epic! Plus, Cillian Murphy is utterly gorgeous in it! Plus he's in a suit which makes me happy lol (and a few moments where he makes you want to give him a cuddle...or a sandwich). So yeah, go and see Inception, Chris Nolan's a genius and Cillian Murphy's hot (plus Leonardo di caprio's in it at some point if you like that sort of thing lol)!**


	10. Patient Interview 2

**Hey ! **

** Wow! I can't believe I'm at the chapter 10 milestone! Thanks to everyone who's added this story to story alerts and have reviewed, especially to Rawhide for her chapter by chapter review, I'm flattered and hope you continue reading. I'm also thrilled that people liked the patient interview tapes idea, I needed one way to show Cat's gradual decent and think that these were also the best way to show Crane breaking her mind but also have her getting into his, plus was inspired whilst playing on Arkham Asylum a while back. This will be the last patient interview chapter, then we get down to the good stuff with (I'm marking it up to an M after this chapter too. You'll see why when chapter 11 goes up) **

**Artemis**

**Chapter 10: Patient Interview Tapes #2/ For All My Best Efforts**

"I don't get it." Terry admitted, staring at his employer confused, "He kidnapped her, tortured her, how did she turn to crime like she did?" Bruce Wayne bowed his head.

"Mcguinness, sometimes I still ask myself that question. I still dream of Catherine Crane actually. I dream of the day I first laid eyes on her, been dragged out of the bank, pleading for me to

help her. I had one moment to decide. Try and save her, which would more than likely have just ended with her been shot right in front of me, or attempt to save her later. I let her be taken, I thought

I could stand a better chance of saving her when she wasn't held at gunpoint. I made a mistake. When I looked into her eyes again, the sweet English girl begging for my help was dead, replaced by

this dark, evil soul. She still haunts me. I tried harder than I did on any of them to bring her back, reform her after wronging her so, but...circumstances got in the way."

Terry eyed Bruce, expecting Bruce to tell him what exactly the circumstances that held Catherine Adams to her criminal lifestyle were, but Bruce remained silent. Terry made a mental note

to ask the commissioner about Psyche later.

"Don't bother asking Barbra." Growled Bruce, as if reading Terry's mind (he hated it when Bruce did that), "this all happened several years before I even laid eyes on Barbra Gordon. She was only

a child who used to hide at the top of the staircase to listen when I visited her father when all this happened. She never knew Psyche's story, I never told her. Now, you need to listen to this. At this

moment, I think he began to really break her mind, though I'm afraid that's just speculation, outside Psyche and Scarecrow, I doubt anybody knew what was going on in that relationship."

* * *

"_Patient interview 32. How are you today Sparrow?"_

_ "Doctor Crane, please, you know I hate that nickname!"_

_ "Ah, but Sparrow, it suits you so well. You strange, delicate thing. Don't you see it fits? Not only your colouring, but how I see everything you do. On top of this, and I'm sure Penguin will back me up, _

_Sparrows have sharp claws and hard beaks. Sounds familiar to me."_

__

(A woman softly giggles)

__

"Ok Crane, I'm sure you haven't come into my room just to flatter me. What do you want to talk about today? Or is this something different? Do you have a few ink blots you want me to look at?"

"_Ah my dear, perceptive as always. But no my little sparrow. I just want to ask you how you're feeling after yesterday's unpleasantness?_

_ "You mean you flashing my news spot up on my wall? Would you believe me if I told you I was super and thanks for asking?"_

_ "No Miss Adams, I worked at Arkham to long, I make it my personal mantra that patients lie. Was it hard? Seeing these people from your past? Did it make you nostalgic for home?"_

__

(Silence)

"_Sparrow?"_

_ "You know something Crane? I don't know what to think about that. Yes, it broke my heart to see my mum! How can it not! Even you have to admit if you saw your mum like that, you'd cry?"_

__

(Silence)

"_Of course, you never cry. No, you know what really got at me with that? How I'm now everybody else's! Those two at the drama society? They'd never give me the time of day! Remember I told you about _

_Amy? That was her. I can hear her now! I need a mirror Crane! I need to know that I'm not disgustingy! That I'm not fat! That I'm not an embarrassment."_

_ "Catherine." Crane spoke up loudly. Not angrily, but firmly, "I happen to think that you are not fat, or disgusting at this minute in time? I have seen you at your worst remember? Remember the night I hit _

_you with the iron? Your hair was greasy, your face was covered in snot and your hands were covered in blood. That was, by societies standards, when you looked your worst. You know what you looked like to _

_me? Powerful. You're normally so shy, even now, you turn your eyes away from the God of Fear, but it's not fear I see. It's embarrassment. Why hide your eyes from me child?"_

_ "Because." Cat whispered._

_ "Look at me." Crane said, his voice no more than a whisper. "I see them now. You know what I saw that night? Fire. I saw fire coming from those eyes. I saw power. Now, I can't see anything but girlish _

_embarrassment."_

_ "You sound like everyone else." Cat sobbed, "The first thing the teacher said to me when I started at the high school in Gotham, I could cut a man with my eyes."_

_ "What is so wrong with that?" Crane asked bluntly, "I know a certain botanical eco warioress who would love the power to kill a man with her eyes." Cat looked down._

_ "That's just it. I don't want them to be like that. You didn't hear the taunts. Scary Mary, the big toad eyes. Why would anybody want them?"_

_ Crane got up and walked over to the chair Cat was strapped to, trapped by the straight jacket that Crane had put her in during each and every session. He took a small object out of his jacket _

_and hid it in his palm, out of Cat's sight. Suddenly, he seized her hair and pulled it backwards._

_ "Look." He urged, clicking open the object to reveal a small make up mirror. Cat screamed and tried to look away but Crane pulled her hair again, making her look at her eyes._

_ "Please Crane! They're hideous! Please stop!"_

_ "Look at them Catherine! In another life, these may have been the eyes of a seductress, but you let them get to you. You let the masses twist their knives in, they destroyed you and you let them. _

_You model yourself on Greek goddesses, but you are no Psyche, all you are is a small sparrow. Do you know that Aphrodite's chariot was always pulled by sparrows? You're obsessed with Greek mythology so I _

_won't insult you by assuming not. But don't you see? You are a slave to those more outwardly pretty. The vain Aphrodite's who must torture others for their own amusement to make themselves feel better. _

_Look at them Catherine! You shortened your name to Cat, you tried to make yourself melt into the crowd and you have repressed yourself for so long, suppressed your natural fire in the hopes of acceptance. _

_Don't you see what real life is Catherine? It is waking up each and every morning, going to work, slaving at a computer screen all day and then coming home to bed. Some try and break up this monotony by _

_going out and getting drunk. It is a vulgar practice and I can see you don't care for it either do you? You pretend to so that you blend in. In between our routines, we are expected to mate and breed with _

_someone we deem worthy to help spawn little brats in our image. That my dear, is not something you could bear, such a mundane life. You say you want to be a teacher? Doing what? Teaching hormonal _

_teenagers something they don't want to learn on a pittance of a wage until you have a break down at the age of 40, alone and wondering where you went wrong in your life. Your only hope will be those brief _

_golden moments which you will live over and over again, when you're old and decrepit and rotting in some nursing home. Those two from your drama society? Will they become famous movie stars? Hell no. _

_They'll end up behind a computer, watching their lives pass them by, clinging onto that 5 second spot they had on international news because of you." The room was silent. Cat stared at Crane with wide eyes, _

_who was panting angrily for breath._

__

"Follow up session 56, patient believes it to be session 32." Said Crane's voice in a clinical 

_manner, "The subject, for all of my best efforts, is not responding well to therapy. I must admit, there _

_were doubts in my mind when therapy first started, I did not know how well the subject would react _

_to me probing her mind. Obstacle: The subject responds too well. Previous tests revealed subjects to _

_usually break within 6 sessions of intensive therapy, however, Miss Adams continues to intrigue me. I _

_have conducted 56 sessions with her, I have pumped her with enough toxins and hallucinogenic to _

_drive 10 men insane, and yet, she still derides reason and logic by still been on the bed ready to be _

_strapped into her straightjacket every session, on top of this, her ability to be able to hold an _

_intelligent conversation fascinates me. I am conflicted however. The start of this trial showed an _

_hypothesis that I'd break the subject into a mental mush, however, I find myself feeling as if I am _

_indeed, interviewing a mirror. Miss Adams interests me. How can a subject have such a similar _

_background to me and not feel the need to avenge herself against life? It is strange that as much as I _

_try and destroy her, I simply seem to throw oil on her inner fire even more. On the other hand, I am _

_yet to believe that Catherine Adams is indeed, as strong as I predict. Solution. Test subject with her _

_ultimate fear, in an actual environment, minus the effects of my fear toxin. I am starting to suspect _

_that she is in fact, becoming immune to it."_

"_Patient interview 33. Today I thought I'd try something different."_

_ "Crane" Cat's voice could be heard, sounding nervous and uncertain, "Where are we? Why am I blindfolded?"_

_ "You are blindfolded my dear because I have a suprise for you,"_

_ "Oh god Crane, please tell me it's that you're setting me free!"_

_ "You pray and curse a lot to God Sparrow, tell me, are you religious?"_

_ "Er...I was raised church of England." She replied, wondering where this was going._

_ "That's not what I asked." Crane shot back, "Do you believe in God?" Cat looked up to where she supposed Crane was stood._

_ "It's funny." She answered, talking slowly as if picking her words carefully, "I always liked the idea of something watching over you, keeping you safe, but then I grew wise of the news. It _

_became hard to believe that God has a plan for us. Saying that Crane, you know what you've taught me?"_

_ "What is that Sparrow?" He asked, not knowing whether to marvel at the calmness in her voice, or dread at what she would tell him._

_ "You've taught me, that God is whatever you make it out to be. People go their whole lives, their god is their job, their kids. They're bound to them, they have the last say on how they live their lives. In _

_my case, you're my God. You've ripped out the rule book, structured a new type of day, especially for me. You've built your own Garden of Eden, and stuck me square in the middle. You have power of life and _

_death over me Crane, the irregular feeding times you have for me is proof of that. If that wasn't enough, why do I feel as if I am high up? Crane, you are the closest thing I have to a God. However, if you think _

_that I will bow before you, you have another thing coming. God is what you make her. For me, God is me, I say what happens with me, not a human like you." _

_ "How dare you declare yourself an equal to the Scarecrow. I am the God of Fear, the Lord of Despair..."_

_ "And you have placed me at the top of a building haven't you?" Screamed Cat, feeling around with her foot and sensing a drop. "What is this? Threaten me with death at the worst _

_possible way for me and make me beg? Really plead for my life. I hear you Crane, but you've taught me well! No one has power over me but me, I am certainly not scared anymore. Watch your creation _

_Crane! Watch how well you've trained me out of such silly fears."_

_ And with that, Cat jumped. She may have been blindfolded, she may have been strapped into a straightjacket, but Crane had no control over her feet. She sprung high and waited for her life to _

_pass her by. No more hearts stopping in fear, no more screaming. She would end it here, and most importantly, she would not give Crane the scream that he wanted._

__

BANG

"_What the?" Cat looked up, shocked. Was she still alive? The ground felt sofy. She heard Crane sigh,__ footsteps, then she was been helped up._

_ "Miss Adams, you know what you have just done?" Crane asked, removing her blindfold. Cat focused on him for a second. She registered the man with the dark hair, the cold blue eyes and the _

_high cheekbones, wondering if she was dead, when she noticed her surroundings. She was in the hallway of some house (more likely than not, the same house she had been in for the duration she _

_thought), she had quite clearly, only fallen one story of the house, landing on a crash mat below. She stared at Crane in shock and anger._

_ "You're sick." She whispered softly. _

_ "No Catherine. Don't you see? You have just confronted your ultimate fear. You confronted that and death and you faced them with bravery and dignity...a trait not found _

_today...you're very rare indeed."_

_ "Wait, Crane! Stop! Where are you pushing me?"_

_ "To your room my sparrow. I need to think."_

__

(Door closes)


	11. A Monster With Ethics

**I apologise in advance for this chapter. I've put Cat through a lot, but I think this chapters definitely the worst she's faced up to this point and will probably not suffer as much until MUCH later on in the story. Just believe me when I say it's needed. From here on in, it's M for a reason folks **

**xxxx**

**Chapter 11: A Monster With Ethics**

"No session today, I'm going on a job Sparrow, I'll be back later tonight." Crane informed Cat, his

head poking round the door. Cat looked up from the copy of House of the Usher and Other Stories

which Crane had given her shortly after pretending to throw her off a building ("Take it as a late

birthday present" He had told her before ducking his head and running back out the room), Cat

wondered vaguely at the time if he knew The Raven was her favourite poem. Now, she raised an

eyebrow.

"You're trusting me to be here by myself and not run away?" She asked playfully, "I'm afraid

I'm not suffering from Stockholm Syndrome enough to stick around here if you leave the backdoor

open Hannibal."

"Hannibal?" Crane asked confused, peering at Cat from over his glasses.

"You don't know who Hannibal Lecter is?" Cat's eyes widened in shock. How could

he not know Thomas Harris's most famous psychotic psychiatrist? "He's a Psychiatrist with

uh...rather unorthodox methods. You should watch Silence of the Lambs sometime, I'd say he was a

guy after your own...er...heart."

"Well that would be tricky seeing as I don't watch TV my dear, but I digress. I have been

neglecting my duties as a villain for so long, this city seems to have forgotten about me. I think that

it's time I resurfaced. So I repeat, I will leave you alone for the time being. Do not worry about

having to escape though, this door will be locked, you'll be safe in here."

"You're too kind." Cat said sarcastically, but smiling whilst she did so and returned to her

book. Crane considered disciplining her for a second for her cheek, but Eddie appeared at the door.

"Uh, I have Cat's lunch here sir." He muttered. Crane looked at him icily.

"I...uh...figured that seeing as we would be out most of the day, she should eat now."

"Ah Eddie, my own personal chef! What's on today's menu?" Cat announced brightly. When

Crane forgot to give her food (being tied to Crane's own eating habits, Cat usually ended up skipping

a meal or three a day), Eddie would sometimes come in with a little something for Cat to eat. Crane

sighed. Exasperated.

"That's very nice of you Eddie, but if you'd please do what I pay you to do, go outside and

prepare the van if you will?"

"Er..sure thing boss." He said, backing out of the room. Secretly, he marvelled at the effect

the girl seemed to be having on the boss. Since she had come nearly a year ago, the Scarecrow didn't

make as many appearances just to threaten the henchmen (or more precisely, Eddie) and instead

seemed to relish having psychological discussions with the girl. The girl. Eddie caught one last glance

of her before walking off. She had changed a lot over the period of her kidnapping, she was thinner,

making her look less childlike and her hair was much longer. In short, he marvelled at how sexy she

appeared before him in denim jeans and a red top, like something from an advert or something.

"I hope you're enjoying Edgar Allen Poe my dear." Crane said to Cat, starring at how far she

had read to say he had only given it to her yesterday. Cat smiled.

"You know, I forgot how much I love Poe! I haven't read the Raven in ages! Plus the Pit and

the Pendulum! I have to count my blessings sometimes with you, it could be worst." She said, before

collapsing into a fit of giggles. Crane continued to stare at her with a deadpan expression, but inside,

he resisted the urge to laugh.

"Well my dear, I had best be off, plans to carry through." He said, beginning to back away.

"No rest for the wicked huh?" Cat asked, half joking.

"I'm condemned." Crane sighed. He was about to close the door when Cat called out to him.

"Oh, by the way Crane."

"Yes Sparrow?"

"If you must kidnap someone again this time, make sure he looks like Johnny

Depp will you? And no women. I'm the only female test subject in your life."

* * *

Crane had been gone absolutely ages, Cat had finally finished the last short story and had

eaten her food and was now practicing handstands against the wall in utter boredom.

"You know, you were surprisingly calm talking to Crane today." Her mind said, "I'd have

thought you would still be furious at him after yesterday."

"You know something? I thought I'd hate him too, but I don't know! I mean, it sucked, but

you have to admit, he's right. I was only scared because I thought he'd thrown me off a roof, but

come on! If there's ever a moment in my life when I am going to fall, there's not really much point

worrying about it at that point, it'd be too late, so why worry about falling now? I think he did me a

favour if I'm honest."

"Gee! Talk about Stockholm Syndrome!" He mind exclaimed, absolutely exasperated.

"What? No!" Cat said aloud, she was not being sympathetic to Crane, she was just

seeing the pragmatic side to his actions. Suddenly, she heard the turn of a key. Crane was back. Cat

looked up at the door in surprise before realising that she was still upside down and collapsed in a

heap on the floor, landing on her head. With her eyes closed in pain, she heard a man's footsteps

enter the room.

"I know what this looks like Crane, would you believe me if I told you I meant to do this?"

She muttered, trying to put on a jokey face with the current inelegant situation she was in.

"I don't know, if I walked in here and your pretty arse was up like that to greet me, I'd be a

very happy man." A gruff voice spoke. For a second, and only for a second, Cat wondered if the

Scarecrow had walked in, but then she realised, that wasn't his voice, and the language used

certainly wasn't Crane's, it was...

"Eddie!" Cat exclaimed in utter shock, struggling to stand up and regain composure. Finally,

she managed to straighten up properly, facing Eddie who had now closed the door and had stepped

fully into the room.

"What's going on? Is Crane with you?" She asked, her eyes darting from the henchman who

brought her food, to the door, wondering if it was locked.

"Crane's still at Wayne Industries." Eddie replied simply. Cat felt her stomach drop.

"You mean he's been captured?" Cat said quickly, her heart racing. What would

happen if Crane was gone? Would it be easier to escape? Eddie began walking towards her.

"No, Crane's not been captured, last thing I saw when I was there, he was doing quite a good

job. To say that company is supposedly the best protected in the city, it's funny how quickly it all

crumbled when Crane pumped his goddamn toxin into the air."

"So...he's safe?" Cat whispered.

"For the time being, yes." Eddie agreed. Inexplicably, Cat felt a wave of relief wash

over her. That was quickly forgotten however, when she realised one blaring thing wrong with this

scene.

"Eddie." She asked slowly, "Why are you back early and not with Crane?" Eddie continued

advancing, a smile on his face.

"Told him I had business to attend to." He said simply. "Either that or I just slipped away and

let him fill in the blanks. He's a smart guy, he'll figure I'm not there soon enough."

"W..what business?" She squeaked. She was up against the wall at this point, trapped,

watching Eddie come closer and closer, his teeth smiling, stained.

"You know what kiddo? You've been a hostage of Crane for nearly a year now. Who do you

think fed you all those times Crane forgot? I've looked after you, you owe me girl. You owe me, and I

only accept one currency. Savy?" And with that, he grabbed her shoulders and slammed her to the

floor. Cat screamed. Even though recently she had sworn to herself that she would never scream

when scared, Crane had taught her that nothing warranted screaming, and if you were in a

dangerous situation, you damn well found some way out of it. Right now however, Cat was lying on

the floor, and Eddie was on top of her, trapping her legs and arms. There was no way to fight.

Praying that someone would hear, Cat felt a terrified scream issue from her mouth, loud, desperate.

Eddie looked down at the girl and began to laugh.

"Scream all you want, no one will hear you. Everyone's at Wayne Enterprises with the good

doctor." He laughed maliciously over her, unbuttoning her jeans. Cat was thrashing around

desperately, praying for anything to help her. Eddie began feeling her stomach, letting his fingers

train down, down, down...

"Oh god! Please stop! Not there!" She screamed. She gasped in pain as she felt 4 of his

fingers roughly enter her. He ignored her screams of pain, her pleas. This girl was a virgin, good, he

thought, as it made this all the more sweeter for him.

"Yes there you little slut, your cunt belongs to me. I've earned it. For years I've trailed that

bastard, money only goes so far. It's hard to even get a whore to come back with you to where you

live when everyone knows that a lunatic wanting test subjects is back at the house." He growled,

ignoring her screams in pain. When he was satisfied, her moved upwards to unzip his own jeans.

With those few seconds where she was free, Cat jumped on it. She flew her forehead square into

Eddie's nose.

"You little bitch." Eddie moaned in pain, bringing both hands to his damaged nose. Cat seized

her chance, pushing herself from under him and sprinting for the door, praying it wasn't locked. As it

flew open, Cat cried in gratitude. Slamming the door shut, she looked around and saw a large,

wooden box. Grabbing the lid, she jammed it under the handle, seconds before Eddie began

ramming at the handle, trying to open it. Cat chanced a smile, backing away towards the dark stairs.

Now was the time to escape. However, she had barely put a foot on the steps when she heard

laughter coming from Eddie's cell.

"What you gonna do you slut? Escape? HA! Good luck. The doors locked. The windows are

bricked up. And guess what? I have the keys." Before laughing cruelly.

Cat ran down the stairs, praying that Eddie was lying, Trying the door, her heart sank when

she realised that he was lying. Running around every room in the house, she was dismayed to see

that Eddie was right. All the windows were bricked up. She began panicking, she needed to get out

of here, if Eddie managed to break the flimsy wedge, she was doomed. Her heart was racing. She

had never slept with a man before and having him touch her there made her shake with fear and she

felt sore. Seeing a long metal pole on the floor, she picked it up and snuck back up the stairs ready to

attack if Eddie broke out, just hoping that one of the windows was not bricked up so that she could

jump out and hopefully, find someone to help her. There was one more room at the end of the hall,

quite close to hers. Running in, she was taken back with what she saw. There was one unmade

double bed in the corner, but what most interested Cat was the amount of computer monitors on

the wall. She edged forward, her mouth wide open with shock at what she saw on the monitors.

Eddie had given up trying the door, and was now pacing the room. Cat could make out his

mouth forming unheard words. Cat stared at the screen in shock. This was her room, and there were

so many cameras. It made her skin crawl to imagine Crane always watching her. Now his words to

her made much more sense, how he saw everything she did, knew her every thought. She looked

down at the pad below the monitor. There were numerous buttons , all different colours.

"My god." She whispered, "This is worst than Saw." She focused on one button, it was big

and red and Cat felt a huge urge to press it. Throwing caution to the wind, she pushed. It and looked

back to the screen. Eddie looked up, she could make out the fear in his eyes and could see his mouth

moving quickly, making out words which would make her mother blush to hear. She saw him

collapse on the floor, writhing in fear, trying to scrape off whatever he thought was crawling on his

body. She leaned in to get a better look, wishing that she could hear what he was scared of, when

she felt a hand on her shoulder. Her heart exploded, adrenaline pumped through her veins. Even

though reason told her that Eddie was safely trapped in her room, instinct told her otherwise. She

tightened the grip on the pole, closed her eyes and spun round, smacking the new person around

the head as hard as she could. Trying to calm herself down and breathing to slow her heart beat

she opened her eyes. Crane laid out in front of her, rolling on the floor and clutching the side of his

head in agony. Cat's eyes widened.

"Crane!" She screamed, kneeling on the floor, pushing his hands away from his face to see if

he was alright.

* * *

It had been a long day for Crane. He had originally gone into hiding to avoid detection from

Strange. The turf war between the two former Psychiatrists had intensified and Crane felt that he

needed to build up his power base, therefore making plans to conduct one last big bank job to gain

the funds he needed before going under for a while. In that time, he had welcomed Cat's presence

as a distraction from otherwise boredom. Originally, she had been the perfect test subject for his

toxin, but over time, he had come to find her fascinating and a tool to relive his glory days as a

psychiatrist (much to the Scarecrow's chagrin who used to be bored through patient interviews at

Arkham, always complaining). Today however, he had decided now was the time to come out of

exile and reclaim his position as head of crime in the city, leading to a raid on Wayne Enterprises for

some much needed new technology. It had been a hard endeavour, whilst it was easy entering the

building and taking down security, it had become significantly harder when the Batman had shown

up. It had been a long battle between the two, at one point, Batman had seized Crane's arm and

twisted it in a position in which his arm threatened to break whilst ripping his mask off and spraying

Crane with his own fear gas (it did not affect him but it was an insult Crane could hardly bear). Whilst

Crane coughed, Batman was questioning him, screaming for the location of Catherine Adams (so

reminiscent of 4 years ago) Crane had screamed for Eddie to help him. However, Eddie did not show

up, he had clearly bailed on him. Crane had only escaped the Batman and inevitable transportation

to Arkham by letting the Scarecrow take over. He had smiled on the way back to the hideout, his

mouth bloody, imagining the scar he had added to Batman's collection, both mentally and physically.

Upon pulling up to the hideout however, Scarecrow had informed Crane that something was not

right. Telling the goons to stay in the van, Crane had gotten out and unlocked the door slowly. He

heard banging coming from Catherine's room, screams. Running up the stairs, he was about to open

the pounding door when he heard the shouts. They were not Cat's usual screams, they sounded

like...like Eddie.

"HELP! GET ME OUT OF HERE!" Eddie was screaming. Crane looked at the door, about to

demand what was going on, when he had seen that his bedroom door was open. Creeping inside,

his mouth dropped open at the sight of Cat in there, stood at his monitor into her room. If that had

not been shocking enough, she was not wearing any jeans or underwear, tears were streaming down

her cheeks and she was loosely gripping a metal bar. He edged up to her slowly, tapping her on the

shoulder about to demand an explanation, when Cat suddenly gripped her metal bar and swung it

hard, smashing it into the side of his face.

"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" He screamed, rolling around on the floor. He

wondered if he was unconscious as it was pitch black and all he could see were an explosion of stars

when he heard her voice.

"Crane! Oh my god, Crane, are you alright?" Cat squeaked, uncovering his hands and

bringing herself into full glare. Crane stared at her blankly, stuck for a second as to remember the

name of the raven haired woman over him.

"Oh for fucks sake, get off the floor and stop acting like a fucking retard." Snapped the

Scarecrow, forcing himself into control and making Jonathan stand up off the ground. He was about

to knock the bitch off her feet, when she did something which neither him nor Johnny expected.

She hugged him.

"I'm so glad you're back." Cat sobbed into Crane's raggedy suit. Both him and the Scarecrow

stared down at her dumbstruck.

"Here, let me take control." A newly revived Crane demanded. He wrapped his arms around

Cat reassuringly. "What on Earth's going on here Catherine?" He commanded. Cat continued to sob.

"It was awful." She cried, "I..I thought you were back, I thought you came into my room.

B..but it was Eddie...he...he...oh god!" Crane looked down at her exposed bottom.

"Catherine..." He enquired slowly, "Did he rape you?" Cat clung to him harder.

"He tried." She whispered, "He tried, but I got away. I...I don't know how, it's just a

blur. I...I got him off, I got out the room and barricaded him in. I...I tried to escape but the door was

locked. I couldn't get away from him. I thought I could get out your window...b..but then I..."

"Then you saw this and decided to have your revenge hmmm?" He asked, the silky tones

had returned.

"No...yes...I don't know. I just pressed that red button and he started screaming."

"You attempted to escape my little sparrow? Hmm, how can I be sure you're not lying? That

you somehow got Eddie in and trapped him then attempted to escape?"

"I didn't." Cat insisted, Crane felt her grip him in terror of what she thought was coming.

"She tried to escape." Growled the Scarecrow, "I say we kill her." Crane looked up at him.

"You really think she'd try and escape minus anything in the lower part of her body?" He

asked sarcastically, "Scarecrow, remember her sessions? She's never been touched by a man. I

doubt that she'd give up 22 years of waiting just to attempt an escape when she's probably

smart enough to know that the only other door into here would be locked too."

"Do you really think I was listening?" Barked the Scarecrow, "Those dull sessions and all that

about her perfect life? I was as far away from that as I could be." Crane inwardly rolled his eyes.

"I think it's time I had a word with Eddie." He said out loud. Cat looked up in terror.

"You think I did this! Oh god, you'll believe whatever he says.." Crane cut her off.

"Sparrow, I just want the facts. Keep watching the screen. I also suggest that

you look in that drawer over there. There's some more underwear and a skirt for you." Cat blushed

as he gently sat her down on the chair and began heading out the door. "Oh, and Catherine? Please

push that dial to your right. That's right. Also, if you ever want to say anything, flick that switch and

talk into the microphone. Now, when the time comes, when you hear my signal, push that green

button."

"What does the green button do?" She whispered through a haze of tears. Crane had

already left the room.

After hurriedly putting on a new pair of knickers and a black pencil skirt, Cat returned to the

monitor and watched. Crane had just unlocked the door and was watching a squirming Eddie coldly.

"What's going on here Eddie? Where's the subject?" Eddie looked up.

"Boss! Thank God you're here! The little cunt lured me in here! I swear, I thought

she was hurt, I heard her moaning through the door! When I went in to investigate, she

overpowered me and locked me in here! Then the little bitch must have gotten into your room, she

sprayed gas on me! Have you got her boss? Have you taken her out?"

"I have dealt with the subject." Crane replied shortly, his voice layered with ice, "Forgive me

Eddie but, I'm confused. You say the subject overpowered you?" Eddie nodded.

"Kicked me right in between the legs boss. There was nothing I could do!" Crane raised an eyebrow.

"And where were you when I needed you today Eddie? I nearly got captured because of

you." Eddie gasped, the toxin was still in the air and he was choking.

"I...I had business to take care of boss, you know, you put me in charge of selling drugs on

street corners when you were off the radar."

"Ah, I see. Well you can relax Eddie. I saw the subject on the landing trying to find a way out

when I got back. I shot her, she's dead." Cat could see Eddie's face relax.

"Thank God...I mean, now she won't be a nuisance. Though I wish you'd saved her for me

boss, I'd have liked to have thanked her for what she did to me." Crane raised an eyebrow.

"No need Eddie. Though I am curious about one thing."

"Errr, what's that boss?" Eddie asked uncertainly.

"Well, you see, the thing is, I'm confused." Crane said earnestly, "I'm

confused that you say you walked in and the subject immediately kicked you in the legs and ran?"

Eddie nodded.

"Yeah boss, that's right."

"See, that's where I get confused. Why, if she ran out immediately, did she run out

minus her pants?" Eddie's eyes widened.

"Errr...you see...the thing is boss..."

"Eddie." Crane said, his voice getting dangerous, "Remind me again what I did for

you 4 years ago?"

"You..you ah, had me declared insane so I could avoid jail time." Eddie muttered. Crane

nodded silently.

"And remind me again, what was that charge?"

"..."

"Speak up!" Demanded Crane.

"Rape." Mumbled Eddie. Crane slowly took his glasses off.

"Anything to say Miss Adams?" He called into space. Cat nearly fell off her chair in

shock, but clicked the switch and spoke shakily into the mic.

"No Crane."

"Very well Sparrow, would you kindly press the green button for me?"

"Now? Bu..."

"Catherine, do not worry about me. The green button if you would."

Cat paused for a minute, then obeyed. Eddie sank to his knees.

"NOOOOOOOO! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I SHOULDN'T HAVE TOUCHED HER! I SWEAR I

DIDN'T RAPE HER! SHE GOT AWAY! PLEASE! PLEASE! HAVE MERC...ack" The room had filled with a

thick gas. Cat could not make out anything on the monitor, no matter how much she strained her

eyes. In the room, Crane just observed his former loyal henchman writhing around on the floor with

a deadpan expression, he was clasping Crane's legs and screaming for mercy. A look of terror on his

face.

The gas finally cleared. Cat stared in horror at what she was seeing. Eddie was lying

on the floor deathly still, but as stiff as a board. Pushing zoom on the monitor, she saw Eddie's faced

was frozen in a state of horror. She swayed, nausea washing over her. She had literally scared him to

death.

Crane looked down at his former henchman and sighed, his face a blank. He shook his leg, making

the cadaver let go of his leg before turning on his heels and making his way back to Cat. Up on

entering his room, he saw his captive glued to the screen, watching Eddie's corpse, her mouth hung

open in disgust.

"You no longer need to worry Sparrow." He said clearly, causing Cat to scream in

terror and spin round quickly. She was so pale, she looked like a ghost, "He will not harm you

anymore."

"You." She whispered, "You killed him."

"No Sparrow." Crane countered, "You're the one who pushed the button. Not me."

Cat felt as if she was about to collapse. She swayed and fell backwards. Crane leapt forward and held

her in his arms. "How did it feel Sparrow? To get revenge like that?" Cat's head was spinning.

"He...but you...how are you?"

"You're wondering why I was unaffected by the toxin when Eddie was killed?" Cat

nodded mutely. "Simple my Sparrow. I have spent so much time around my toxin, I've developed

quite an immunity to my own fear toxin. To everything really."

"You mean, you don't get scared?" Cat whispered. Crane shook his head.

"No. I mean, I do, but only on special occasions." He said, with an air of finality. He

looked down at Cat, "You think of me as a monster don't you?" Again, Cat nodded mutely. "And

what makes you say that Catherine?"

"You...well...you made me kill him! How can you be so calm?"

"How can you be so panic stricken?" Crane shot back, "He nearly took something

from you, something so special to you which you have kept all these years. You have protected it

from every acne covered artisan who came your way, and its something you cannot get back

Catherine. What he was about to do was unforgivable, and yet, you feel compelled to mourn his

loss. How tied down you are! It is like a man shooting a robber who threatens the man's family and

the man being charged with murder. That is society's way of thinking Sparrow, do not be tied down

like the rest of the plebs. Surely you can see his death was fully deserved?"

"B..but" Cat stuttered, "He's your oldest henchman! And yet you're not a little bit

sad? Oh my god! That gas was positioned in MY room. You wanted to kill me didn't you?" She

struggled, fighting to get out of his arms. Crane held on calmly.

"First of all Sparrow, yes, that was my eldest henchman, but be under no illusions.

The man had no loyalty. I thought he did at first, but then I realised that the man was loyal to one

thing. Money. Why do you think he stayed along so long? Danger money, he saw the benefits of

sticking around, you were simply seen as a perk. The man was a crook, a rapist and a monster

Sparrow, be under no illusions of that.

Second. Yes, the button was positioned in your room, but I never intended to use it on you...well.

Maybe if you'd have tried something stupid like stabbing me with your dinner knife, but it's part of

the machine I built years ago. You are not my first kidnap victim, you will not be the last." Cat eased

herself from his arms and began pacing the room. Finally, she looked at him straight in the eye.

"If Eddie was a monster, what are you?" She whispered. Crane sighed, his patience

was starting to wear thin.

"A monster with ethics." He snapped. "You see everything so black and

white. Like I said, you're bound by society. What? You think I'm pure evil? Maybe I am Catherine, but

Jonathan Crane for all my best efforts is a human too. How long do you think you've been here

hmm? Every henchman who passed through these walls knew about you. Do you know how long it

has been since any of them had had a woman? They would beg me to give you to them. It would

have been so easy. I've been pumping fear gas into your room periodically for almost a year. You

were so defenceless. It would not have troubled me to simply leave your room unlocked one night,

but I never did. I heard you when you told me things no human has heard pass your lips. You have

never slept with a man Sparrow because you do not think like other humans. With something so rare

and pure, do you really think I would have given you to the wolves like that? Humans are mostly dull

and predictable Catherine, but, there are those of us whose mind is not black and white. It is grey.

Yours is the same, but you are so tied down by society. Until you see that, I am doomed to be the

pantomime villain in your head, but hear this. Life is but a parody, but even the clowns in

Shakespearian plays were the wisest in the whole production." He finished, panting angrily and

staring at her with his icy blue eyes.

Cat simply stared back. She wanted to hate him...of course she did, she had just seen death for the

first time and it was all his fault.

"I need to unload the van." He informed her. "You can stay in here. I trust you will not

try and escape?" Cat shook her head, sinking onto the mattress. It felt strange to have a bed on

an actual metal bed, even stranger to have pillows and a duvet. She spread herself out, staring at the

ceiling. Crane watched the shell-shocked expression on her face, before leaving the room and closing

the door.

Cat sat up slowly and looked around the room. The windows were bricked up, not

letting her know whether it was night or day again. However, she looked to the other corner of the

room and saw something she had not seen in such a long time. A clock radio. It was a simple, cheap

thing, but it flashed the time up in huge red letters for Cat to see. One o clock in the morning. For a

second, Cat was overjoyed, feeling more connected with reality than she had done in the past year.

Suddenly however, she felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her as she felt the constructs of time

and reasonable sleeping hours bind her. She put her head back on the bed.

"I think it is best you stay in here with me tonight Catherine." She jumped as she

heard Crane's voice as he re entered the room.

"What? With you?" She whispered, panicking. Crane raised an eyebrow.

"Well, if you'd sooner go back to the room where Eddie's corpse still i..."

"NO!" She screamed. Crane nodded.

"Very well. You can remain on the bed. I will stay on this chair." He

said, placing himself on the swivel chair by the monitor and picking up a book on the desk. "You will

find something to sleep in in the bottom drawer over there. I will not look until you tell me I can." He

turned towards the monitors and put his head deep in his book.

When Cat had quickly changed (a long woollen dressing gown reminiscent of what

Cat's grandmother used to wear), she squeaked "Doctor Crane, you can look now." However, he

continued to read his book as Cat sank under the duvet. She stared up at the ceiling for what seemed

like hours, in a fixed position, as stiff as Eddie, who was flashing up on the monitors.

"What's the matter Catherine? Can't sleep?" She heard Crane call after a while.

Gripped by fear, she sat up to look at him. The image of Eddie still there.

"Crane...uh...please can you turn the monitor off?" She pleaded gently. Crane turned round on his chair.

"I'm sorry, what was I thinking?" He muttered and turned off the screens, looking at

Cat with a clinical smile. "Better?" Cat nodded slowly, but still could not close her eyes. After an

hour, Crane came and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Eddie is dead Sparrow, he cannot get you now." He stated, not entirely insincerely.

Cat looked across at him.

"I know that in my head Crane, but I close my eyes and he's there, walking towards

me an.." She cut herself off with a squeak. Crane took off his glasses.

"Very well he whispered, positioning himself on the bed next to her on top of the

cover. From under the covers, Cat looked at him perplexed.

"Most trauma victims," Crane explained, "often feel isolated and tormented, just as

you are now. The most common treatment for this is a close friend to be close by. Granted, I am not

a close friend, but you have to admit, I doubt even Eddie's ghost would dare take me on. Don't you

agree?" Cat couldn't help but giggle. Smiling at this encouraging sign, Crane dipped for a second

under the bed, producing a bottle of whiskey.

"I'd say this calls for a night cap don't you? I could certainly use a stiff drink."

"Trying to get me drunk Crane?" Cat asked, attempting a jokey smile, "I'm a lady don't you know?"

"Ah," Crane said, beaming down, "I see Madame has recovered her sense of humour.

Greetings my lady, I have missed you." Cat giggled as she took the bottle and took a small sip. She

instantly felt the hot liquid move down her throat. Coughing, she passed the bottle back to Crane.

"I've never liked that stuff." She yawned, feeling her eyes close. A while later, she

made out through her eye lids that the light had been switched off and she let herself fall into a

deep, untroubled sleep.

_

* * *

_

Cat was flying. She was soaring through the air like a bird, for once in her life, she wasn't falling to 

_the ground, she was flying effortlessly in the clear blue skies. She could hear the wind, the birds. _

_Below her, she could see cornfields as far as the eye could see. Such beautiful fields of gold. Suddenly, _

_something was wrong. She could hear crying. Looking around, she saw a dirt road by the fields. Flying _

_over to investigate, she looked down at a heartbreaking scene. A boy of about 13 was in a crumple in _

_the middle of the road. Landing down beside him, she edged closer to him. Even in the foetal _

_position, she could make out that the child was unnaturally tall, but he was also filthy, tattered. _

_ "Who did this to you?" She asked. No reply. "Who did this to you?" She repeated. She _

_could hear the sobs, they were getting louder. "Let me help..."_

"...You." Cat exclaimed, forcing herself up. She sat there in the dark with her eyes closed, thinking

she was going mad. That dream had seemed so real, she could feel the warm rays of the sun and she

could still hear the boys sobbing. The boys sobbing...

Cat's eyes flew open. The sobs were not imaginary. They were real. She looked to her

side and saw something she never expected to see. The red numbers on the clock illuminated the

room to show Crane was asleep by her side, asleep and clearly having a nightmare.

"I thought he said he didn't get scared?" The malicious part of her brain said. Cat

looked at him, then looked towards the door.

"What are you waiting for fool? Get out of that bed and run! Smash down the door if

you must! Nows your chance!" Her brain was screaming. Cat shook her own head to herself.

"No." She whispered, "I can't. He's right." Her conscience took a double take.

"What the hell? What the hell? What the hell?" It demanded angrily. Cat sighed.

"I can't escape! Firstly, I'll bet he's locked that door and the one downstairs is also

locked. Second. He's right isn't he? Eddie's dead and deserves to be dead! Why should I feel guilty

for retribution? Crane's right. Don't you see?" She looked down at him. There was a crack in the

brickwork of his window, letting a chink of silver light into the room, falling across Crane's face. He

did indeed look like a small child. He called out in his sleep.

"Grandma! Please!" Cat shot her hand out, she quickly stopped herself however,

merely inches from his face. She wondered if he would thank her for waking him up. He always

seemed so tired whenever he interviewed her, and Cat reasoned that any sleep was better than no

sleep at all. Seeing that she was wrapped up in all the covers (how she had managed to drag them

out from under Crane without pushing him off the bed, she'd never know), she unwound herself and

threw one half of them over Crane. His cries got softer and softer, before he fell silent. Cat watched

him. The chink of light highlighted the features of his angelic face. Cat had never seen his hair look so

light, nor his skin glow marble like a vampires. She dropped her gaze to his lips. They were thin from

starvation, but she could make out their shape and original fullness. She looked down at him

sleeping peacefully .

"Talk about Stockholm Syndrome." Her mind muttered. Cat smiled.

"No, Stockholm Syndrome would be if I kissed him...which I won't." She muttered,

smiling to herself. She looked back at Crane's sleeping form. "You were right. I'll never admit it to

you when you're awake, but you are right. I am glad he paid for what he did." She continued

watching him as her eyes began to feel heavy again.

* * *

"_Johnny, you're lying to me again." His grandmother was croaking, moving along the dirt road _

_towards him. He moved backwards as fast as he could._

_ "No grandma! Please! I didn't start it! Please don't hurt me! PLEASE!" He fell _

_backwards right into a puddle. His Grandma looked down at him, cracking the thick leather belt in _

_her hands._

_ "God doesn't like liars Jonathan." She hissed cruelly. The crows began circling above _

_them, "I'll have to punish you!" _

_ "NO GRANDMA!" He screamed, feeling the thick belt come crashing down on him. _

_He screamed. He was in so much pain. Curling up, he tried to stop the continuous cracks coming _

_down on him, He swore he could feel blood gushing over his back...Suddenly, the crashing stopped. _

_The crow caws stopped. Johnny looked up from his hands to see that he was no longer on the dirt _

_road, he was in a place where it was all white, all fluffy, all clean._

_ "What is this place?" He asked himself, looking around and feeling warm and _

_comforted, warm drafts of air blew on his face._

_ "Sanctuary." A feminine voice said behind him. He looked up sharply to try and find _

_the source of the voice, but as he turned, his eyes opened and the scene vanished. _

He was back in his room. Cursing himself for falling asleep, he looked over to Cat,

expecting her to be staring at him with those Spanish eyes of hers, expecting an explanation, or

worst, pity. He was relieved to see that she was sleeping peacefully, breathing regularly (so that

would explain the warm draughts of air). He looked down. Somehow, he had ended up under the

covers with her and confusingly for Jonathan, at some point in the night whilst he was asleep, he had

somehow draped his arm over Cat like a lover (He would never know that he had reached out for her

seconds after she had fallen asleep for protection from his Grandmother). Disgusted with himself, he

tried to move when he realised that his hand was trapped under her side. Trying to be more forceful,

he tried to ram his hand out. Suddenly, Cat began to whimper in her sleep

"Please don't Eddie...Crane! help me!" She moaned softly. Crane stopped and looked

down at her. He had known the attempted rape would leave her vulnerable that night, but he did

not know that she would call out for him. Instead of pulling his hand out, he instead put his other

arm under her softly and pulled her towards him.

"Shhhh Sparrow, it's ok, Eddie's gone. He can't hurt you. She's gone. She can't hurt

me. We're both safe in this bed." He whispered softly, putting the message into her subconscious

and not waking her. Cat stopped moaning and put an arm over crane, holding him close.

"How do I know I'm safe? I don't know if I can trust you, you want to kill me." She

muttered back, clearly just talking in her sleep. Crane looked down at her

"Sparrow, if I killed you, the world would be a duller place." He whispered back,

before closing his eyes and relishing how comfortable with another person in the bed, sleeping in a

most platonic way. Tomorrow there would be questions, but until then, Crane felt himself drift off to

sleep, having the most undisturbed dreams than he had had in a long time.

**Wow! Just missed out on 7000 words there! Can't believe I wrote that much! I want your opinions here guys, I'm sorry Eddie turned out like that, I've had emails saying how much you like him, but I needed to show that Crane and the rest of the villains are different to the average villain in Gotham, plus as you can see, it's at this point Cat sees what Crane has being telling her for a year and she's starting to turn to him more and more (as you can see by her admitting at the end that she's not remorseful at Eddie's death). Please let me know what you think of this chapter as this is the most important one to date **

**xxxxxxx**


	12. innocent and childlike you are not

**Hey guys!**

** Thanks so much for your kind reviews last chapter, your reviews definatley make my day (seriously, I'm always checking my emails, my parents are complaining I'm obsessed lol), I'm excited for this chapter, I get to introduce a character I've been looking forward to writing about since starting this story), I'm loving this story, this chapter is in two parts because if I wrote this and the next together, it would be longer than the previous chapter (and I have no idea how I wrote that much in a day and a half). The next few chapters really start getting into the crux of the story now, I've already got a few chapters written already, can't wait to put them up. But for now, Crane and Cat need to get over the whole sleeping very close to each other for the night (have to admit, I liked writing that bit last chapter *daydreams about cuddling Jonathan in bed*) Think of this bit as the comic relief side after how dark last chapter was. This bit half shows Cat trying to hang onto her old values and principles and half embracing her new life.**

**xxxx**

**Chapter 12: Innocent and Childlike You Certainly Are Not**

Cat stretched out comfortably. She couldn't remember a time when she felt warmer or safer. She

half dreamt that she was running through the field behind her house, calling for Frida. She

pirouetted in the sun, feeling free. Frida jumped through the bushes, gambolling happily. Cat smiled,

running up to her dog with her arms wide open. Grieg's Morning began playing loudly, melding in so

well with the dream.

"It's time to wake up Sparrow." She heard a soothing voice mumble through the trees. Cat

opened her eyes confused. What was Crane's voice doing all the way in England? She looked up.

Crane was lying next to her, his arms wrapped round her like a lover, his eyes still closed, but smiling

softly. Greig's Morning was blaring out of the small radio. She closed her eyes again and cuddled

Crane closer to her. If this was a strange dream, then she could defiantly live with it.

"Now this is a sign of Stockholm Syndrome." She mumbled. She had had weird dreams, but

dreaming about waking up in the arms of your kidnapper was defiantly up there with making out

with your school teacher or walking into a lecture naked. Why did this feel so real and so normal to

do?

"Patients suffering from episodes of Stockholm Syndrome usually demonstrate childlike

qualities of helplessness Sparrow, the bloody nose you gave Eddie that I saw last night showed that

innocent and childlike you certainly are not." Crane mumbled sleepily, but still maintaining his usual

air of arrogance and superiority, feeling comfortable in an intellectual setting. Cat smiled at Crane. In

real life, Crane's little quirks like this had become endearing to her throughout their numerous

sessions. In her dreams, it amused her that this was her first dream involving Crane and it was so

intimate. Suddenly, her brain screamed at her to wake up. She sat up sharply and looked down.

This was not a dream, she really was in the same bed as Crane, and her arms really had been

wrapped around him.

"What the fuck?" She screamed. Crane opened his eyes properly and stared up at Cat, an

amused smile played on his lips.

"And there Sparrow, is the proof that you're not suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. I don't

know of any case of Stockholm sufferers who continued to use language like that after their captors

kindly told them not too." Cat sprang out of the bed furiously.

"Oh my god! What happened yesterday! What happened yesterday and I'm in a bed with

you? Oh god!" Crane regarded her with a bored expression on his face.

"Catherine, you weren't that bothered about sharing a bed who helped you kill the man who

nearly raped you yesterday, to say we went through all of that last night, I'd have hoped that we

could skip this rather dull part where the two parties regret their actions. I know that social

etiquette demands this dull 'will they? Won't they?' scenario, but I've never being one for following

tedious social conventions." Cat gaped at him in disgust and confusion.

"He's right." She muttered to her mind, "I wanted last night. I felt safe when he was in bed with me."

"What? No!" Her mind screamed, "You shared a bed with a murderer. You woke up in his arms..."

"You make my skin crawl!" She burst out. She blushed furiously at the idea of her mind

bursting forward. She looked down slowly at Crane still laying on the bed, his suit crumpled and his

face looking up in confusion. Suddenly, she saw his eyes darken and his face become vicious.

Scarecrow launched out of the bed and gripped his hands around Cat's throat before she had

anytime to react.

"Listen you little slut." He growled angrily as Cat gasped desperately for breath, "Don't play

coy and little miss innocent now. I heard you last night. Crane may have been asleep, but I heard all.

You're as glad that that treacherous cunt is dead as I am. I heard you declare to Johnny last night

that you felt no guilt. I heard the gratefulness in your voice that he made you do it, and both me and

Johnny were there when you let him onto your bed and I certainly was watching when you threw

the covers over him and whispered to yourself that you could kiss him. You may think you were

joking to yourself you whore, but I don't share the same boring make up as Johnny boy here, I

function purely on raw emotion, and I could sense the horniness in your voice. You wanted too,

understandable, I usually want to fuck after I've killed a man too. So don't stand there and insult

Crane just because you think you're better than him and just because

you've got it into your thick head that you have to hate him, because I'll smash it against this wall as

if it was an egg shell, comprendez?"

Cat choked. His fingers were in danger of snapping her windpipe in two.

"Nod if you understand." He growled. Cat nodded quickly and he let her slip through

his fingers carelessly, returning to the bed. Cat looked up at the bed horrified.

"Why didn't Crane stop you then?" She demanded. Scarecrow smirked sinisterly.

"Johnny Boy's a man of many talents." He snarled, "However, defending himself

when I truly want to take over is not one of them. Right now, he's locked up in a soundproof closet

in the back of my mind, he can't help you. Damn, he doesn't even know I'm talking to you you

bitch."

"You really don't like me do you?" She snarled, "Seriously! I'm sure people have said worst

about Crane, do you try and break their necks too?"

"Nah toots, only those women who I think are gonna hurt Jon." He said simply. Cat stood up

and looked at him in confusion. "What's that meant to mean?" She exclaimed. Scarecrow ignored

her however and simply said "Johnny's coming back, do me a favour and pretend that no time's past

and that you and I had this talk." He said, before turning sharply to one side and ripping the alarm

clock out of the wall. Cat stared at him, her mouth agape in confusion as she watched his head bow

and his eyes close. She had no time to reflect on this encounter however, as Crane's head snapped

up. His look of confusion back on the face which only moments ago had shown such hatred. Cat

thought fast.

"I'm so sorry Crane." She whispered, putting her hand over her mouth, "I'm sorry, I didn't mea..."

"It's ok Catherine." He muttered. Inwardly, he cursed himself, perhaps last night was too

much too soon for her. Secretly, he knew that she would panic the next morning after feeling so

vulnerable the night before, but he could not help but feel a slight pang of disappointed, he could

not deny that he quite enjoyed last night, it had been the first time in a long time he had slept

peacefully, minus the nightmare he had had at the beginning (and he could not describe the relief he

would always feel that Cat had not been awake to hear him scream or so he thought). Cat sat down

on the edge of the bed.

"No, it's not ok Crane! I know I was a state last night, and you were there when I needed

someone. It can't be helped whatever we do in our sleep. I remember at uni, my friends from school

came to visit me and they all forgot to bring sleeping bags so the 4 of us slept in my single bed,

apparently, I rolled onto one friends arm and when she tried to get me off I yelled that she was

trying to nick my tent and apparently tried to punch her...would you believe me if I said I didn't know

anything about it until they showed me what they'd filmed on their mobiles when I woke up? So lets

forget about last night, at least I didn't try and punch you, apparently I'm quite territorial in bed."

She looked up at Crane with a smile, but it fell when she saw the cynical look on his face. He looked

at her with one expression the new orderly's at Arkham used to look at a new inmate who may have

the habit of swinging from the rafters as soon as he was admitted.

"You...you accused her of stealing your tent and then punched her whilst you were still

asleep?" He asked slowly, a dumbfounded expression on his face. Cat looked at him and nodded

smiling. Suddenly, she snorted and collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles, Crane tried to keep a

straight face, but soon fell into the same laughing fit as Cat.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a strange one?" He gasped, his shoulders still shaking. Cat

grinned.

"You're not the first to tell me that Hannibal, you sure as hell won't be the last." She giggled.

"Oh, by the way pot, I'm kettle. How do you do?" Crane bared his teeth in a smile and continued

chuckling.

"I have things to do today Sparrow, I can't let you go back to your cell, that would be too

cruel to you, even for me, however, I would like to show you something, I saw them at Wayne

Industries yesterday and immediately thought of you. I would like your assistance today, but I must

ask you first, can I trust you?" Cat nodded. Secretly, she was surprised herself. Whilst he was asking

for her help for the day, it had not crossed her mind to even think of escaping.

"What did you get at Wayne Industries?" She asked out of interest, "I mean, I've heard of

that place before, when I got off the plane, I heard something about technology or something. So

what is it?" Crane smiled.

"Still perceptive I see." He said, "technology is a small understatement. Wayne Industries

basically controls half of Gotham, has a lot of fingers in a lot of pies does Bruce Wayne, his parents

were shot in front of him when he was about 8, then disappeared for a while, no one knows where

he went, probably jet setting around the world on a skiing trip."

"Not jealous at all are you?" She muttered giggling.

"Not at all, I just want to get into his head, a victim of trauma like that? It'd make an

interesting session."

"So what did you take yesterday? Cash? Nuclear arms?" She asked sarcastically. Crane rolled his eyes.

"No Catherine. Now, would you care to get changed? There is much to do today." And with

that, he got out of bed, still in the tattered suit he wore the day before. "Whilst you do, I'm just

going to..er...tidy up." Cat nodded, pulling out a drawer full of clothes. Crane turned to leave when

Cat suddenly looked up.

"You know something Crane?" Crane raised his eyebrows .

"What Sparrow?" She smiled deviously.

"That's the first time I've ever heard you laugh. As freaky as it, it suits you." Crane felt himself blush.

"Every time Jonathan Crane smiles, a puppy dies." She continued, whispering

conspiratorially.

* * *

"Ready Sparrow?" She heard Crane yell through the door. "We have work to do."

"Yeah, keep your hair on will you? I'm hardly going anywhere!"

"Enough cheek!" He called. "I have things to sort, you need to help, otherwise I'll

punish you. Is that clear enough?"

"Ok, ok! Jeez! I thought you had hired goons to do this sort of thing?" She snapped. Walking

out the door. Glancing at the door to her old room, her heart skipped a beat to see that the door

was wide open. She froze to the spot, half expecting Eddie to come out, his beady eyes fixed on her.

"There are none in the house." She heard a voice behind her, causing her to yell and nearly

jump out of her skin. She whipped round to see Crane looking down on her calmly. "After yesterday,

do you really think I'd let anybody be anywhere near you?" He stared into her eyes, lips thinned. Cat

put her head down and shook it.

"Very good. Now come, nothing is in that room. I sorted it. Now, I have something I want to

show you." He said, courteously holding his arm out.

"You're alone with him. You know what that means?" A small voice in her head

yelled, "it means you need to smash his head in and you need to run for that door." Cat however,

shushed it and took his arm, letting herself be led downstairs. He led her into what could only be

minimally described as a poor attempt at a living room. There was a stained coffee table in the

middle, surrounded by three frayed and leaking small sofas. Crane led her to a box by one of the

sofas and opened them up, pulling its contents out with a gleeful expression on his face. Cat helped

organise the weird and rather dangerous selection of loot, which ranged from weirdly shaped guns

("mini rocket launchers Sparrow"), to plutonium cells ("Long lasting batteries, just think about them

like that." He had told her). After two hours of tedious organisation of dangerous weaponry and a

selection of crushed up drugs which Crane assured her they would be mixing later, Cat looked down

at what Crane had been building up to for the past few hours, she could hardly ignore the look of

excitement and boyish glee as he looked at her expression.

"Boots?" She said disappointedly, "You got me excited for boots T-Rex would have worn in

the 70's?" Crane sighed, disgruntled.

"No Catherine. Look at them." He said, straining to keep the patience in his voice, hardly

able to conceal his disappointment at her anti climatic response. Cat stared down at them again.

They were metallic like. Reaching down and touching the heel, she squeaked in surprise, they were

actually made of metal, despite the purple part was made of suede, the heels, at first glance, gave

off the deceptive appearance of simply being knee high platform shoes, but at a closer glance, the

metallic part concealed miniature fuel gauges.

"Ok, I'm confused." She said looking back up, "What are these?"

"Something you thought you could only dream about." He replied, the excitement

rising in his voice, "Rocket boots."

"...er...what?" She replied, picking them both up, "you mean the David Bowie boots

are actually rocket boots?" Crane smiled.

"All five years of research, concentrated on these two objects, which I think will be a great

help spreading a little fear in Gotham. Don't you agree?"

"..." Cat continued staring at him blankly, both boots still held in her hands.

"You doubt me Sparrow?" Crane asked, gently easing the boots out of her hands. Cat stared at him.

"Well yeah, rocket boots don't exist." She said, stating the obvious. Crane smiled at her.

"Ah Sparrow, you may come from a country which is behind America by about 5 years, and

you've been in a jungle which is about a hundred years behind, but trust me, if you can dream up,

then Wayne Industries have or are in the process of creating it." He replied, grinning gleefully.

"And you saw these and thought of me?" Cat muttered cynically, wondering where the hell

this was going.

"Of course." Crane replied, adopting his cocky all knowing tone, "Fear of flying? Fear of

falling? You may have tried to fool me into thinking you were cured of your fear when you thought

you were jumping off the building Sparrow, but all it proved to me is that you don't fear death. I'm

afraid that an attempted suicide is not enough to

convince me that you have been cured of your fear, just that you'd go to any measures to get out of

situations." Cat looked at him blankly before twigging. She did a double take.

"You want me to have a go in them?"! She screeched loudly. Crane raised his right hand to his ear.

"Yes Sparrow, just so that I can see how you deal with heights." He smiled, passing them to

her. Cat stared up at him.

"You're mad." She gasped. Crane's smile got bigger.

"They often say that. Now would you please do me the honours?" He said before sitting up

and looking at her expectantly. Cat continued staring at him, eyebrows knitted together.

"And pray tell, how exactly do these work?" She was almost growling at him. Crane revelled

in the anxiety and fear in her voice, ah, fear of the unknown, such a fun phobia.

"That Sparrow, is where these cells come in." He said, carefully lifting out one of the

plutonium cells which Cat had just carefully put in a concealed box for him.

"Er...Crane?" Cat stuttered shakily, "Isn't plutonium highly unstable?"

"Mostly yes my dear." He replied calmly, "Though in its battery body, Wayne

Industries have developed a way to channel its energy. Used properly, its power is similar to

nuclear waste, it remains active for thousands of years."

"Like nuclear waste? Crane! Are you insane? Actually, scratch that...but you expect me to

get into boots which will (I assume) involve fire, fire with a dangerous element? Fuck no."

"Catherine." He spoke firmly and loudly, highlighting his thin patience, "I can assure you that

they have been tested, they have the company safety stamp on it to show that they have passed

safety test. Only, you will be the first to use them before the military."

"What will you do with them after me though?" She whispered.

"Why, use them to inject a little fear into this city of course." He said smoothly,

"Now come on Catherine, this fear of the unknown you have, it's only charming on seven year old

children, not twenty two year old women. It's just annoying now. Now please, I'm right here, I'll tell

you what to do." Cat bowed her head at this strong persuasion, realising he would not give up

badgering her to put them on, she dutifully slipped them on, surprised at how well they fitted, but

also, how the material came just under her kneecaps and were tight enough to be secure, but

weren't tight enough that they didn't go up her entire leg. She smiled as she buckled them up.

"I think I'd wear these on a night out you know, I really do." She joked. Crane said nothing as

he bent down to place one plutonium battery in each boot.

"Now Catherine, stand up very carefully and follow my instructions to the letter." He

commanded, holding out a hand and easing her up. Cat nodded. "Good, now, I want you to click the

metal part of your heels together once ok? Very lightly."

Cat complied obediently, tapping her heels together lightly. She looked at Crane stupidly,

"God I feel stupid, should I say 'there's no place like ho..." Suddenly, she felt herself fire upwards.

"CRANE!" She screamed, banging into the ceiling headfirst. Crane jumped up,

"Cat!" He yelled, jumping up, "Click your heels two more times!"

"YOU'RE INSANE! OWWWW!" She screamed, banging her body painfully into the ceiling again.

"JUST DO IT!" He bellowed. Cat struggled to get her heels together against the sheer

thrust of the engines on her feet, but managed to just click her heels together twice. The fire

immediately cut out, causing her to go crashing to the floor, landing painfully on top of Crane.

"Owww." She mumbled , rubbing her head gently, "I never want to do that again."

"Mmmmph!" a voice cried out underneath her. "Gerrofff of me!" Cat rolled off

Crane, who in turn was rubbing his head, wondering why there were two girls who he was currently

holding hostage. Closing his eyes and laying on the floor, he muttered, "Probably should attempt to

use them in the hall where the ceilings higher." Cat agreed fervently with him, before in turn, lying

on the floor and groaning.

"Or we just don't attempt that again. If you want to spread fear by air, be like any other evil

genius and hire a helicopter." She muttered with her eyes closed.

"Oh haha." He groaned.

**Right, that's the end of the first part of the chapter. The rocket boots are important in a few chapters, so I decided to show Cat getting used to them. It's a bit silly but ah well, these higher rated fanfics hardly have anything to laugh about. I'm taking the weekend off of writing, I have a family reunion, but the next chapter will be up probably Wednesday. Thursday at the latest.**

**PS. I have no idea about physics, so please don't complain about how incorrect Cat's rocket boots are, not when this is based on a film where a guy can dress up in underwear and a fabulous cape and fight crime in what can only be described as a city the size of a state with the worst crime rate ever.**

**Artemis out xxxx**


	13. Strange

Hey folks

Time for the Crane/Strange rivalry to come to a head with interesting results, hence the title. It's also named for Strange by the Feeling. It's a lovely song and it was playing when I wrote a certain part of this chapter, so I guess this title has a double meaning. Sorry for the wait, family's just left, all uni friends have been and visited, complete with a second trip to see Inception. Who seriously wants to give Fischer a huge hug in that last scene?

Chapter 13: Strange

"What are you doing in here?" Demanded Crane, walking into the sorry excuse for a kitchen and

seeing Cat rifling through the cupboards. Cat looked up. It had been half an hour since her disastrous

first attempt at using the rocket boots, and fifteen minutes since she had gotten furious at Crane's

suggestion that they try again, which had resulted in a very angry Cat pulling off the boots and

throwing them at Crane's head (who had promptly ducked for cover, screaming at Cat's insanity at

throwing plutonium at him) and storming out. Not hearing the front door slam or her climbing the

stairs, he had grown concerned and after fifteen minutes, had stepped out of the living room to

investigate, hearing noise coming from the kitchen. Cat gave him a withering look.

"I don't know about you Crane, but after that, I need a cup of tea. You do have tea here

don't you?"

"Errr, yeah, in the top cupboard over there. Or we have coffee? That'd be better, I don't

think there's milk here." Cat glared at him.

"Seriously Hannibal! Do you ever eat? Scratch that. Do you ever go grocery shopping?"

Crane regarded her over his glasses, before taking them off to massage the bridge of his nose

Exasperated.

"What do you think? And no, I never seem to get hungry, I always get distracte..."

"By your experiments, yeah yeah." Cat muttered, pulling two tea bags out of the

sparse cupboard. "We'll take our tea black then. I'm assuming you don't take sugar?" Crane shook

his head dumbfounded. "Thought not, all those extras would just take up your valuable time. Now,

from what I found in these things, we have rice, and an egg which goes off tomorrow, so it looks like

egg fried rice today. Seriously! I had a better stocked fridge when I was a student!" Crane couldn't

hold his curiosity any longer. He burst out:

"Catherine? What the hell?" Cat looked up with a smile.

"Well I don't know about you, but I needed a drink after repeatedly banging my

head against the ceiling, and I'm too English to not drink tea. Plus, I'm starving and I'm pretty certain

you are too seeing as I at least ate yesterday. Oh, and I'm stalling because I REALLY don't want to get

back in those boots anytime soon."

"So nothing to do with throwing an unstable element at my head?" Crane asked, eyebrows

raised. Cat gave her own withering stare.

"Hell no. You deserved that. Now get over and give me a hand. I'm assuming that you have

cutlery in this place?"

Soon, Cat and Crane were tucking into a sparse feast of egg fried rice and black tea, with the

table conversation consisting mostly of Crane berating Cat for her use of the boots.

"I said click once to set off, click twice to turn them off, but you have to click once after

turning them on to hover. Understand?"

"Yes Crane. For god's sake, I get it. I just don't have a desire to do it again anytime soon!"

"You're just afraid of failure and looking like a fool! Come on Sparrow, who is going to judge you?"

"Well me for one, it wasn't my most graceful minute ramming my head against the ceiling like I'm in

Family Guy..."

"Sparrow, forget it, you have ungraceful minutes every day, you'll have ungraceful minutes

tomorrow, and the day after that. Who's going to care though? I sure as Hell don't. Just trust

yourself to make mistakes in a while. You always get so frightened when you fail. If I did that every

time I failed, I'd be suicidal in Arkham." Cat looked at him unimpressed.

"But why are you so desperate for me to use them?" She asked quietly. Crane smiled

sinisterly.

"Simple. Because I need to see how they're used and I hate looking like an idiot too.

Difference is, I'm not the hostage and test subject in this situation and I don't have a Scarecrow

ready to discipline me if I ignore instructions."

Cat was stood in the hallway. Crane had insisted setting up again immediately, seeing lunch as an

annoying distraction from the important matter of Cat experimenting the rocket boots. She looked

up disdainfully at Crane.

"Why out here? Why these?" Crane growled.

"Catherine, that trait of whining is attractive to dogs only, not humans. Goodness,

not even Harley Quinn is attractive when she does that."

"Who's Harley Quinn?" Demanded Cat confused.

"Later, later. Now, you're in the hall because, as you can see, it's higher. There's less

chance of a repeat performance of what happened in the lounge. Now, let's try this again shall we?

Click your heels once."

Cat looked at him reproachfully, before sighing heavily at the hopelessness of arguing and

clicked her heels. She suddenly went launching into the air.

"Again Catherine!" Crane yelled. Quickly, Cat closed her eyes and tapped her heels again.

The quick speed at which she was hurdling to the ceiling stopped. She opened her eyes slowly.

Suddenly, an ear splitting squeal of delight came from her mouth.

"Oh my god Crane look! I'm flying!" She squealed excitedly. She was hovering six meters in

the air, just looking over the top of the banister upstairs. Looking down at Crane, he held his hands

to his ears, but he smiled back.

"Very good Catherine! How about trying to navigate in them then?" He called up. Cat looked

down at him in horror, realising how high up she was and becoming very sick.

"Are you crazy Crane?" She demanded.

"Yes. But it's simple, just tip your feet in the direction you want to go."

"But what if I fall?" She screamed, feeling incredibly dizzy.

"Then I'm here for you to fall on again." Crane called back up, amused at his own joke. Cat

sighed and very lightly, tipped her toes slightly forward. To her surprise, she gently floated forwards.

Turning to her right, she was delighted that the boots seemed to follow her every command just by

thought. Below, Crane could barely contain his glee, doing a weird sort of dance.

"Oh my god! Crane! I'm seriously flying!" She screeched, still breathing fast with fear and

exhilaration, clicking her feet together and letting herself fall back to the ground gently. Crane held

out his arms to catch her and eased her back to the ground. She looked up at him, her eyes shining.

Crane grinned back at her.

"Congratulations Sparrow, I think that's fair to say that you've faced your fear of heights and

falling and passed." Cat smiled and threw her arms around his neck.

"Thank you." She whispered gratefully, "Seriously, thank you. You have no idea what this

means to me." He looked down in shock, surprised at her reaction, much least to say he was shocked

that she was hugging him. He patted her back gingerly.

"It is ok Sparrow. Regardless to say, you've helped me more, now I know how to use these. It

is I who should be thanking you." He muttered, trying hard not to blush. Cat looked up.

"I mean it...Jonathan. You're the one guy who I feel I can be completely myself around. I feel

as if you know everything about me and what I'm capable of. I thin...!

"You don't think anything." Crane interrupted suddenly, sounding very cocky. "You know.

You always know. I wish you would stop assuming, or faltering, or guessing. Just say that you know."

"Ok. Well...I think...I know tha...that...oh Crane..."

Cat's testimony was cut short however. At that moment, the bolted and sealed front door of the

house burst open. Cat screamed and jumped into Crane's arms in shock. Both did not register this

unusual behaviour however, as they were both staring in shock at the door, their peaceful, little

bubble destroyed forever.

Five big, burly men crowded through the door, all in black jumpers, all looked to Cat like the

stereotypical criminals she'd seen in American films. One such man looked down on Cat,

causing her to freeze to the spot, Crane covered her protectively with an arm.

"Found 'im boss." He growled, "Looks like he's ah...busy right now. With an whore by the

looks of it." Both Cat and the Scarecrow inwardly growled at the implication been made there. Cat

out of moral outrage at been called a prostitute, and the Scarecrow for the implication that he

would touch Cat with a bargepole. Crane however, calmed the Scarecrow, he needed control here.

He stared hard at the large man.

"And pray tell, who happens to be your boss?" He growled, "Please, give a satisfactory

answer, otherwise you may find that it will be your last."

"Ah Dr. Crane." A slimy voice came into the room behind the men. "Still as welcoming and

social as ever. You know, a fear of people is most unusual, usually manifests itself in such rudeness."

They parted just as Crane's had done the day Cat had met him, to reveal a new man. Cat stared at

him. The day she had met Crane, he had filled her with an innate sense of fear and shock. This new

man however, did not wear a mask to make himself appear more threatening. To Cat, he resembled

a fat, slimy toad. The man was large and fat to say the least. His suit was a size to small and was the

disgusting colour of pale snot. On top of this, to Cat's revulsion, large sweat patches were clearly

visible under his armpits. Looking up at his face, she nearly gasped in horror at the hideousness. The

man had a large, round head, consisting generously of pink, doughy flesh which encased two small,

grey, piggy eyes. He had black hair just like Crane, but whereas Crane's hair was thick and fell about

his face with careless elegance, this man's was short and thin to say the least, and greased back. He

observed Cat and Crane with a sickening smile.

"Dr. Strange." Greeted Crane with forced (and very clearly sarcastic) bright tones. The man

Crane had just greeted as Strange continued smiling.

"Dr. Crane. How do you do? It's been so long! I thought I'd call on an old colleague to see if

he's alright. I haven't seen or heard from you in a year." Scarecrow inwardly continued growling.

"What are you doing here?" Demanded Crane harshly, "Get out of my house." Strange tutted.

"Dear dear, so rude since you turned to your life of crime. I think I preferred the sociophobic

Dr. Crane who never spoke to anyone when he was head of Arkham to this, frankly, rude criminal..."

He stopped suddenly and regarded Cat.

"Ah, entertaining I see Jonathan? Tell me, do you let all of your test subjects run around the

hideout free range? Ah I remember this one. Your last bank job before you went into hiding like the

cowardly mouse you are. Good afternoon Miss Adams. Permit me to introduce myself, I am Doctor

Hugo Strange, I once worked with Doctor Crane here at Arkham, then we..ah...each decided to go

down different career paths at the same time. Tell me, how are you enjoying Jonathan's

hospitality?" He enquired, holding out his hand for Cat to shake. She felt Crane's grip tighten on her.

"Leave her alone Strange, your quarrel is with me." He said quietly, yet danger seeped out of

every syllable. Strange gave his toadying smile.

"I was simply enquiring after her health Jonathan, I'm surprised quite frankly, that she is still

alive and quite sane by societies standards. A year and you haven't managed to break her mind and

add to Jeremiah Arkham's collection at our old employ? Exile has certainly made you lose your

touch..."

"ENOUGH!" Scarecrow bellowed coming forth. Cat screamed in surprise, accidentally

banging her heels together in the process and hurdling into the ceiling. None of the rogues looked

up to see her pinned to the ceiling however, their eyes remained locked on each other.

"So you got bored and decided to come looking for me?" The Scarecrow growled, "I must

say, I'm flattered by the attention. Tell me, do I fascinate you because I will always have the prestige

in Gotham that you will never have? Is it that Jonathan excels you still in the study of psychology? Is

it that you want the position I hold as the master of fear because you'll never be good enough to sup

at the rogues table unlike us?" Strange's doughy face turned bright purple in anger, promptly pulling

out a gun on the Scarecrow, causing Cat to yell in horror.

"You stole from me." Bellowed Strange, "that consignment of plutonium batteries were

mine for my research. What do I find? You get there one day before me Crane, just when I thought

that I was rid of you. You have stepped on my territory long enough." Scarecrow looked at the gun

coldly.

"So you'll shoot me?" (Cat screamed at this point, still pinned to the ceiling and trying

desperately to tap her heels together) he sneered, "How very worthy of a man who claims

dominance over me, but I'm afraid Hugo, it lacks a certain subtlety. I'm sure our respective parties

would agree." At this, he glanced up at Cat.

"Please stay up there Catherine." Crane silently begged her from within his mind, "Stay up

there where you are safe."

"Oh no." Strange jeered, "Death would be too good for you. You know, you're right. You've

always fascinated me with that mind of yours. Tell me. How does a respected doctor like you

become such an infamous criminal? What is in your mind? I've come here to find out. You see, my

dear friend Gillies here." Pointing at one of the henchmen holding a camera, "Is a top film maker. I'm

going to take a look in your mind. Once I shoot this ray gun at you, the room will fill with your

darkest memories. Things you thought were long forgotten, and you will go insane and I'll capture

every minute. Then, when I am finished, you'll be a catatonic shell of what you once were, you'll be

found in a skip somewhere in Gotham and spend the rest of your days in Arkham, lying on a bed and

trapped in your body, reliving the nightmares you never tell anybody. You see Dr. Crane, I know

what you fear the most, it's indignity. You cannot bare the idea of not being the great demi god. But

you'll live your life, unable to go to the toilet, condemned to dignity pants. That is what you

deserve."

Crane felt his heart skip a beat, but the Scarecrow maintained the stony deadpan expression

Jon was well known for, whilst Cat continued screaming for Crane up in the air. Suddenly, Strange

pulled the trigger, aiming it directly at Crane's head. Jonathan screamed in his mind, Cat yelled for

him to use his fear gas, forgetting that Crane wasn't carrying any, leaving him defenceless to the ray

that shot at his head.

It was the most mind blowing and wondrous thing Cat had ever seen. All at once, the room

filled with a setting she had never expected. She had an aerial view of a school cafeteria. Strange and

his men remained in the corner, but Jonathan had changed. He looked younger, and impossibly,

more thinner. There were no traces of the expensive suits Cat had grown used to seeing him in when

he wasn't on a job, these were clearly charity store tearaways, and the silver glasses he was always

peering over were succeeded by cheap ones which had been broken and fixed with cello tape so

many times. In short, Cat was shocked to see Crane so different, so...normal. All around, people

were sat at the tables, eating the cheap looking school dinner fare, crowding onto the tables and

chatting with their friends. Crane on the other hand, was on a table by himself, in the furthest

possible corner. Cat felt her heartstring tug as she saw one table close to Crane nudge each other

and giggle in his direction. As a former bullied child herself, she needn't have two guesses as to what

they were talking about. Her suspicions were confirmed when one rather jockish boy threw a plastic

cup at his head, bouncing painfully off his forehead. Cat called out in anger from the ceiling, hoping

someone, anyone would notice and put a stop to it. People did. All the other tables looked up in glee

and began laughing. Loudly. Soon, they were chanting "Scarecrow. Scarecrow." Looking down at

Crane, she saw him turn a brilliant shade of red to match his shabby t-shirt, sinking his head deeper

into his book. Cat was not fooled though, she distinctly saw a tear run down his face.

The scene changed. He stood up and began walking on the spot, though his mind was

manipulated to make it look as if he was really travelling. Suddenly, a gang of jocks appeared. Cat

recognised them instantly as the jocks from lunch. Cat screamed for Crane to run, to look behind

him and notice the oncoming danger, though of course, her screams were unheard. The gang

surrounded Crane like a pack of wild animals. He looked at the biggest, burliest one who had thrown

the cup. "Leave me alone Bo." He demanded, trying to sound brave, but his voice cracked in fear.

This only caused the group to begin howling in laughter, edging closer. Bo looked at him wickedly.

"Nawww, icky Icabod Scarecrow trying to be brave? I think I need to teach you some respect

for your betters, don't you?" He snickered, before the group pounced.

"CRANE!" Screamed Cat. She could bare it no longer. She forced her heels together in the

right series of clicks, causing her to hover. Pointing her toes at the ground, she swooped into the

middle of the group who were now savagely attacking Crane, who was in the foetal position on the

group crying.

"Leave him alone." She screeched to the images. Of course, they didn't even see her, but

carried on attacking Crane. The attacks of course, passed straight through her. She knelt on the

ground and scooped the thirteen year old Crane into a hug, holding him tightly to her chest. He

responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her and burying his head deep in her, where she

could still hear his muffled cries. She held onto him tightly and rested her head on top of his. He

cried in pain every time a foot connected with his spine, but Cat made shushing noises soothingly.

"Jonathan, it's ok, they're not real! Please Jonathan, it's me, it's Catherine, it's Sparrow! This isn't real!

You're not a child anymore, you're a man! You're a man and you're more successful than any of

these dicks! I've never heard of that bastard there, does he want to be a footballer? I know the type.

Johnny! Please! He failed at life. You're Jonathan Crane remember? You're the Scarecrow! You're

famous in Gotham." Teenage Crane looked up.

"Catherine?" He whispered. He clearly was so caught up in his hallucination, that Cat

obviously didn't exist to him. Cat clung to him closer, the idea that he didn't know who she was

scared her for some reason that she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Yes Jonathan. It's me. You don't believe me, I know, but please listen. You are the most

feared villain in Gotham. Please remember me Crane! Please! None of this is real! They're not really

hurting you. Please concentrate!" Crane continued looking however.

"They'll all be scared of me one day." He whispered. It wasn't a question, it was a

declaration. "They'll be scared of me and I'll have no reason to fear." Cat nodded encouragingly.

"You will. I never thought that I'd admit this, but I was scared of you. Everyone in that bank

was. I wasn't being brave Johnny, I was terrified. You thought I was different, but you always scare

me." she could see the images start to fade, much to Strange's fury.

"Why do this for him?" He bellowed angrily, "Why help a man who's kidnapped you and

tortured you for a year? You said it yourself, he scares you" Cat looked up from Crane furiously.

"Because he doesn't deserve this!" She screamed, "You're driving him insane, that's so

fucking cruel! I can't let a human suffer like that! And so what? He made me stronger this last year

than I've ever felt, I can't let you do this to him!" Strange peered at her clinically.

"Ah, I see classic symptoms of Stockholm Syndrome here." He mused, "I see the subject has

formed a romantic attachment to her kidnapper, even signs of guilt at his retribution." Cat flushed,

hugging Crane closer, who was responding with longing, as if he had not been hugged in a long time.

"I do not have Stockholm Syndrome." She growled. "And looks like your plans failing

Strange. Jonathan's stronger than you think! Look, the images are fading. Looks like he's right.

You're no match for him." She declared jeeringly. Strange's eyes widened in fury, before a sickening,

all knowing smile crept onto his face.

"You think this is all I've got sweetheart? I'm just getting started." He cried, before shooting

the gun again, "Time for a higher intensity."

The scene changed. It was in front of an old, shabby colonial house. Cat supposed it would

have been a lovely house, if more care and upkeep had been done to it. The trees and plants at the

front were dead, the walls were stained. To Cat, it looked like it sucked the life out of anybody who

passed by the broken white fence, let alone anyone who lived there. She saw teenage-Crane

bloody face twist in sheer fear as he walked in through the gate. She watched as he detoured from

the path to the overgrown garden behind the house. Cat followed him quietly. Watching him slip

under a barbed fence at the bottom of the sad excuse of a garden. She cried out as his back scraped

the barbs, but Crane didn't seem to bother reacting to it, even though she could see that he'd drawn

blood. He buried his face in a horse and began to cry. Cat began moving forward to comfort him,

when an old, wizened voice rang out from the house.

"Jonathan? You're back, I can see you. Don't you dare ignore me you vile boy." She saw

Crane's body freeze and stiffen in fear, head still pressed into the horse's neck. He turned around

slowly, fear was unmistakably etched into his face.

"Coming Grandma." He whispered. Cat gasped. She had regularly told Crane about her

family and how close she was to her Nana (all the jewellery, including the eternity ring which she still

wore on her finger which Crane had allowed her to keep was from her Nana who she missed dearly),

how her fondest memories were of her baking with her Nana or her Nana attempting to teach her to

knit, that she hoped one day to be as loving to her grandkids as her Nana was to her. Cat had always

assumed everyone had this identical plump grandma who dressed in old fashioned clothes with

twinset pearls and smelt of cinnamon and flowery perfume and always wore a smile, but looking at

this monstrosity, Cat felt her fond memory and safe assumption burst. Jonathan Crane's

Grandmother was indeed plump, but unlike her own Grandma who's skin was bright , pink, firm and

lined with 'laughter lines' ("I didn't grow old, I just laughed and the wind changed and left me with

these wrinkles" Her Nana used to joke), Crane's Grandmother looked as if she could have being

beautiful at one point, but had been pickled in her own meanness. Whilst Cat's grandma was plump

from 3 children and a fondness for baking, Cat could see that Crane's came from a general sense of

greed, with no merriment to go with it. Cat's grandmother's voice was typically northern for a

woman who had lived in Yorkshire her entire life, but was sunny and had a sing song element to it so

that anybody around couldn't help but smile. Crane's Grandma's was a husky voiced old crone

whose voice literally leaked hatred and bitterness. At this moment in time, her eyes were narrowed

on Crane, not with concern at the bruises as Cat's Nana had the day she had come running into her

house in tears that fateful day on the way back from school and had been surrounded by bullies

because Cat had scored high in a history test that day and had only received a punch in the stomach

beforehand palming one girl in the nose to break the circle and made a run for it. No, in contrast to

that day when her Nana had sat her down with a glass of water and had called the police, Crane's

Gran had a look on her which showed no much needed sympathy or love, it showed only contempt,

anger, disgust...hate?

"You have been fighting again Jonathan." She declared. Crane shook his head.

"No Grandma. It wasn't my fault!" Grandma Crane held up her hand firmly and

dismissively (so reminiscent of Crane when he was stopping Cat put herself down or when she was

about to say something he thought was wrong When he did that however, he always looked so

sincere. There was nothing of that expression here).

"You're lying Johnny! I can tell! The righteous do not get into fights, the lord protects the

good. You're bleeding. God was not watching over you because you started it. What was it? Was it a

girl? Have you been mixing with girls again?" Crane was shaking his head furiously.

"No Grandma...please Granny! My ribs are hurting me." He whispered, daring to look

hopeful that she would take pity on his injured body and let him in the house to lie down. Grandma

Crane however, looked down self righteously.

"You have fought with your fellow man Jonathan, you're lying, you're late home, probably

reading those blasphemous science books I expressly told you not to...You need to be brought back

on the path of the good my lad. You must spend time with God." Crane paled.

"No Granny...PLEASE! NOT THAT!" Crane was screaming in terror, all blood had

drained out of his face. Grandmother looked disturbingly calm and solemn.

"It is the only way of penance my lad, now, go upstairs and dress in your Sunday best. You

want to look good for the lord don't you?" Crane stepped back, terrified.

"Please Grandma! I beg you." He whispered. Grandma looked down maliciously.

"Now boy, otherwise I'll get the belt and then I'll dress you myself." Crane put his

head down, defeated. Cat stiffened, it was terrifying to her how much Crane reminded her of

herself, that same look of defeat, not only when giving into Crane, but all those times. The times

when she had to go swimming and she wanted to do ballet, or when Jamie wanted something else

on TV and would hit her till she gave him the remote when they were children. It was shocking to

see the man who always wielded so much power and authority look weak and human like her, she

had secretly come to admire and aspire to Crane's resilience. It scared her to see him like this.

"Please stop it! That's enough!" She was screaming. Strange and his goons simply laughed

wickedly.

"Oh no child. I think there's more." Strange crooned (just like Scarecrow had a habit of

doing, but whereas Cat always felt a shiver of fear down her spine when he did, with Strange, she

just felt like a child been proposed sex by a pedophile). Cat looked back to the scene. Crane was now

in a weirdly torn tuxedo, which was oddly stained. Whist it was not unusual for Cat to see Crane in

suits like these, his horrified face and being dragged by this vile woman towards a derelict church

was not something Cat was used to. Grandma Crane looked insane, her eyes were set on the

building before them,

"It's for your own good boy." She declared, throwing open the doors and pushing teen Crane

in. "You're wicked. You'll never be loved by anyone. Pay for your sins now or you'll be in hell for

eternity." Crane screamed from within.

"Please don't say that Grandma! Jesus teaches us that God only hates the sin but loves the

sinner doesn't he?" He yelled from within desperately. Cat closed her eyes, shuddering at the sheer

fear in his voice. This wasn't right. She looked back at Grandma Crane, who was spluttering in fury.

"How dare you mention the lord's name like that! You're not worth the shit on his blessed

sandals. And how DARE you lecture me on the bible boy. Be glad you're in there already..."

Suddenly, the door banged forward desperately, Crane frantically tried to bang the door down but

to no avail, screaming:

"Granny! Oh my God, please! The crows! The crows! Please Grand..ARGH! I wish I were a

Scarecrow! I wish I was a Scarecrow!"

Cat ran forward, hurdling through the projection of the wall, only to scream. The sight was unreal,

she felt like she was in the middle of a nightmare. Crane had backed away from the door and had

collapsed on the floor, his bloodied hands covering his face. Cat felt sick. Crows were swooping in

from the rafters of the building, clawing and pecking at the prostrate teenager huddling on the

floor, as if trying to burrow into the ground. This was worse than the jocks Cat thought. With the

jocks, it was people with small dicks making their own lives seem better, but this? This was

monstrous. This was been implemented by someone who was meant to love Crane, someone who

was instead, behind that locked door, on her knees in prayer and screaming the lord's prayer in

between ranting how she was saving his soul.

"JONATHAN!" Cat screamed. She could not take this, it was torture to see the man who

had done so much for her reduced to this. She tried grabbing his shoulders again, but he was too

caught up in his worst memory to even comprehend that she was there. She let go, and began

thinking fast. There was no reason trying to defend Crane against the crows, they would go right

through her. She felt sick watching Strange's possie laugh at the poor doctor...laughing...laugh...

"This isn't real!" She screamed, turning on her heels and running in the direction of where

the door was. Finally breaking her concentration from Crane's hallucination, she saw the nightmare

fade to her back into the hallway. She heard through the door:

"Hey boss. That girl's gone. What should we do?"

"Ah leave her. If she has any sense, she'll go through the front door and run. She'll

be picked up at some point and recognised and taken to the police station and hopefully be back in

England by this time tomorrow. Let her go. She's nothing."

Cat looked to her side. Indeed, the door was open, revealing a side street. She took one step

towards it, but stopped.

"What the FUCK are you doing?" Screamed her mind, "Now's your chance! Freedom! Sweet

fucking freedom! Come on!"

"No." She whispered. Suddenly, she started screaming it, "NO, NO NO NO NO!" luckily, this

mixed in with Crane's own screams in the living room, which had become high pitched. She turned

her back to the open door and ran up the stairs to Crane's room. Diving under the bed, she found

what she needed. Pulling up floorboards, relieved when she found them. Canisters of fear gas and a

small hand gun, which she stuffed in the back of her bra. Shaking them to make sure that they were

full, she then grabbed the gun by the bed. All the way through, her conscience screamed at her.

"Cat! Please! What are you doing? Leave them to it! He deserves it! Please! Think about it!"

"I'm not leaving him." She growled to herself, "I can't. You've seen what I've seen. All my life, I thought I was the only one to be bullied, I thought he was mocking me and my perfect

life. You saw. He wasn't mocking me. He wa...I can't let them do this to him!"

"Bu..but freedom Cat!"

"FUCK MY FREEDOM!" She burst out, running back into the living room, brandishing

a gun. The goons had no time to pull their own when Cat shot them all in the head without a second

thought. She marched pass Crane who was now half screaming "I didn't mean to kill her...please!"

and pointed the canister directly at Strange.

"Put . The gun. Down." She growled slowly. Strange merely smiled.

"And if I do, I just point this at your head. Then you will be thrown head first into

your own worst fears. Your mind will overheat from the strain and Dr. Crane won't be able to help

you. You'll be found side by side, mindless shells. You'll never make it back to England, you'll be

locked in a mental ward all your life. Drop the canister Miss Adams. Go through the door. Go to

freedom. Crane won't notice you're gone, he's nothing now. Go. You do not belong in this world,

you will wake up tomorrow and the deaths of these men right here will haunt you tomorrow. Look

at you. I have seen the news specials of you. Good family, friends. No trauma, no one event and no

profile of abuse to animals. You're not like that, you'll never fit in. You have too much humanity in

you. You couldn't kill in cold blood. Revenge, fear and love. The three main motives for murder. You

don't fear me, you don't love me and I haven't done anything to you to warrent revenge. No child.

You couldn't, you're too innocent, your upbringing shows only mercy." He jeered. Cat let her

canister fall out of her hands dejectedly. She looked up at him, tears began forming in her eyes.

"Oh my god." She whispered, looking at Strange, "What the hell's he doing to me? I've killed

men for hi...oh my god. I'm a murderer!" Strange looked at her sympathetically, though refused to

take the stun gun away from Crane who was still screaming.

"It's ok child. It is a simple case of Stockholm Syndrome. On e such case like yours is a young

woman who was kidnapped by a terrorist cell and was led to take part in terrorist activity for them.

You are at a fascinating stage at the minute Miss Adams, I would like to treat you at some point, just

to get my inconsiderate colleague out of your head." Cat looked up hopefully.

"You...you could cure me? I could go back home?" She whispered hopefully. Strange smiled

gleefully. He had never had someone look to him for help like this before, Miss Adams stared at him

with big brown eyes which brimmed with fear and tears. She very much resembled a helpless rabbit,

her small childlike body basking in its helplessness. He let himself think at the greatness he would

achieve, he would be the undisputed greatest mind in Gotham, even the world, all for helping

expose Crane for the fraud he wa...Suddenly, Strange actually looked at Cat. Her face had darkened.

There were no more tears in those eyes...no fear. The only possible thing Strange could describe

them as were...fiery. Looking into her face, he stepped back, lest he be burnt by the dangerous aura

that seemed to surround Cat. Without warning, she pulled a second gun out from behind her back,

tucked behind her bra. Strange could only utter a small scream in the time it took for Cat to shoot

him in the kneecap, a deadpan expression on her face, but her eyes burning with vengeance. The

gun fell out of his hands and smashed on the floor.

"I'm afraid I shall have to decline your offer." She whispered dangerously, before spraying

the entire can of toxin directly into Strange's mouth. She watched him as the colour rushed out of

his face, his eyes bulging in terror and she kept a straight, dead expression as she heard him begin to

gag in fear, unable to scream as she jammed the can properly in his mouth, halfway down his throat.

She made no sound as Dr. Hugo Strange, Jonathan Crane's replacement as head of Arkham before

he too became a villain, slowly choked to death, reliving his greatest fears, like Crane in the corner,

looking into the dead eyes of Catherine Adams, the girl who the news had reported, was nothing but

the pinnacle of goodness. If he could have spoken, his last words would have been: "Mercy. Mercy."

Instead, one last spasm of choking escaped his mouth, before his eyes drifted out of focus. Cat

looked down pitilessly at the corpse of the old psychiatrist coldly, before whispering.

"I do NOT have Stockholm Syndrome."

Cat's thoughts drifted. She thought of when she was six years old and when there

was a fox in her garden. At first, she had been bowled over in admiration for the beautiful creature

as Fox was her favourite character in Animals of Farthing Wood. All thoughts of this had stopped

however, when she saw the creature stalk towards her pet rabbits hutch slowly. Forgetting all

attachment to animals, Cat had grabbed a frying pan from the surface and had gone running out

fast, all set to smash the creatures head in, before it had seen her coming and had sprinted off in the

opposite direction. Her parents had come running out upon hearing her screaming, only to see little

Cat carrying Dusty the rabbit in one arm, frying pan in the other hand and announcing that the

bunny was sleeping in her room from then on. A small cry from Crane brought Cat back to the

present, with a slight wonder over why she remembered that at that time. This thought however,

was abandoned when she heard Crane cry again. Dropping the gas and gun, she got off Strange's

body and ran back to Crane, scooping his thin frame back into her arms.

"Oh my God! Jonathan, please, it's ok, it's over. Please Jon...look at me!" She cried, panic in

her voice. She gently lifted Crane's chin so that she was staring into his big blue eyes (she gasped

slightly, she had never noticed them like that before). She kept eye contact, inwardly, praying that

Crane would recognise her.

"Crane, please! You can't be tortured by what you saw! It's already been and gone, you're

the Scarecrow now, the most feared mastermind in all of Gotham! I know you Crane, this is a cheap

ploy of a fool to break you, please, you're always so...so constant! Please, you can't let him get to

you, you're right! He's a twat! He tried to break me, I didn't let him, he couldn't break me..." She

stopped gabbing, looking down, she only saw a blankness in his eyes.

"Sherry?" He whispered. Cat looked down, trying not to show her hurt.

"No Crane." He looked away slightly dejectedly. Then he muttered something that

Cat had heard all her life but had never expected to hear from Crane.

"Thought not. My Sherry's the most beautiful girl in the world. You're not."

Cat dropped him. Inside, her mind was racing. Who was Sherry? But the most upsetting

thing was, she began feeling things in her mind that she hadn't for a year. Her mind hurdled back to

uni, asking Will out, for once trying to be brave, thinking for once that she needed to be brave and

stop being a child, stop being afraid. She remembered how Will was always nice to her during

rehearsals whilst she worked backstage, remembered how she would lose herself in his eyes. One

day, she asked him, just for a drink at the union bar. She closed her eyes in embarrassment,

remembering his face.

"Why would I ever do anything with you Cat? He asked, eyebrows raised.

"i..i er...just thought..." Cat muttered, turning bright re, realising this was all a big

mistake. Will smiled cruelly.

"Don't you think I'm a little out of your league Cat? I mean, I've just stopped seeing

Melissa...looking at her and then you, do you really think I'd go for you."

Cat closed her eyes, despite being twenty, she felt like a little girl who was scolded for being

naughty. She had never spoken to Melissa, but she was the typical Mary-Sue plastic-fantastic-bitch-

of fiction, tall, gorgeous, huge titted orange tangoed cow who everyone loved, unlike the tiny, pale

and acne covered Cat who had a problem with causing people to despise her just by opening her

mouth. It was probably in revenge for daring to think herself worthy of been anywhere near the self

obsessed president of drama that he spread those rumours later on, chasing her out the society. For

that moment in time though, Cat kept her focus on him, her face straight. She would not let him see

her cry.

Cat stood up, putting a hand to her face. She hadn't realised she had started crying. She

slowly backed away from the prostrate doctor. She was numbly surprised at herself, she had just

killed five men and yet she was more affected by her kidnapper calling her the wrong name. She felt

herself back into the wall clumsily, but stayed there, letting herself slide down and continue

watching the rolling Crane.

"I've never been good trusting people Crane." She whispered, "Most of the time, I don't

even like being touched, though you knew that already. What I thought you knew was that I always

knew you'd make me cry, and that you'd know that enough not to do that to me. Ok, you make me

cry by being cruel, but not by being evil. I guess I was wrong. I guess I'll always be that little girl no

one wants to talk to who always ends the party by crying." She laughed bitterly, "Guess people will

always make me cry." She continued staring, tucking her knees up to her chin and wrapping her

arms around them, hugging herself. "All hail the lord of despair." She whispered angrily. Suddenly,

Crane stopped moaning. Cat looked at him dimly, not registering Crane, just the sudden silence in

the room. He sat up, staring at Cat. She flicked her eyes upwards and smiled sardonically.

"Mind beam not affecting you Scarecrow?" She muttered blankly. Scarecrow smiled at her,

eyelids drooped.

"Oh it is, but the human minds a wonderful thing, most only use a small portion of theirs.

Jonathan's nothing special in the grand scheme of things, he only uses a small amount too. A bit

more than most, but still small. That's the rather dull and predictable thing of Strange's ray gun, it'll

only mess with that part which people use the most."

"So you're alright? Really? How do you explain your eyes then?" She asked sarcastically,

looking at how Scarecrow's eyes drooped unusually (and trying hard to ignore a nagging voice in her

head which whispered that he looked dangerously sexy). He growled frustrated.

"Me and Crane share a brain! You have no idea what's going on in here! I've got a bloody

migraine and Johnny-Boys a bloody mess! He's trapped in a hallucination..."

"Involving the perfect Sherry. I know." Cat practically growled at him. Scarecrow looked at

her sharply, questioning her with raised eyebrows.

"He mentioned her. Was rather disappointed I wasn't her to be honest." She said morosely.

Scarecrow narrowed his eyes.

"Be glad you weren't her. Firstly, she's dead so even Johnny would be shocked if she turned

up in his house. Secondly, Johnny killed her, so I doubt that she'd be the most ecstatic to be reunited

with him. Thirdly, if you were Sherry Squires, I'd be beholden to put your head through the wall."

"Ah, so you weren't a fan? I was told she was beautiful, so I'd have thought she'd be right up

your street." Scarecrow hissed.

"Never. Ever. Associate me. With. That. Girl. Ever. Again." He was practically yelling. Cat

looked at him questioningly.

"She treated Johnny like crap. Long story short, it is because of her that Johnny was

damaged, I came slightly more into being and me and Johnny learned how girls are merely whores."

Cat laughed sardonically.

"Is that why he called out to her and wished that I was her?" She snapped bitterly.

Scarecrow looked at her questioningly.

"You know, to say how much he supposedly makes your skin crawl, you seem rather mad at

him right now, even after you kill five men to save a man you supposedly hate." Cat's breath hitched.

"And to say you're supposedly not my biggest fan, you came when I called your name rather

fast." Scarecrow smiled.

"When?"

"The master of Fear, the Lord of Despair. Jonathan has a problem with referring to

himself with flowery titles. It's not hard to assume that you go by them too." He smiled, flattered by

Cats' attention to detail.

"He really hurt you when he didn't remember you didn't he?" He asked, not entirely

insincerely. Cat lowered her head.

"Well...you know...I've been with him for a year. I guess he just wounded my pride."

Scarecrow nodded.

"Understandable. You know, you and Johnny-Boy are so bloody fragile, it's like I'm living

with emotionally retarded teenagers sometimes. 'ooh no one likes me' 'ooh, I'm not good looking.'

Jesus, a man can only take so much angst." Cat sighed from the wall.

"How is he?" She whispered. Scarecrow looked down.

"In turmoil at the minute. It's better that he's locked in my head whilst he's like this.

Then he can't hurt himself." Cat tried to smile.

"Good." She whispered. Scarecrow looked at her quizzically.

"You really do care about him, don't you?" Cat blushed and put her foreheads to her

knees, not responding. "Well if you do, I'm going to need help. First, I need help clearing these

bodies up. Then, this shipment needs storing. Plus you'll need to give me back those dainty new

shoes of yours. They're integral to a plan I have and I'll need them. I'm afraid I can't trust you right

now, as you can see, I'm in a rather weakened state, so if you don't mind, I'll need this." He growled,

picking up the guns Cat had dropped on the floor. "No offense, but I need you to come with me

outside. And I'm afraid with women, I think they're only good for a fuck, I don't trust them. Forgive

me, I'm a rather rude part of Jonathan."

Firstly, they picked up the crates of contraband that only hours ago, Cat and Crane had

happily sorted through, introducing Cat to things which blew her mind. Now, she was pulling back

walls in the basement of the hideout, revealing a new room which should not have been there,

being held at gunpoint by a very unsteady Scarecrow.

"Believe me, if there was any other way, I'd hide this stuff here, however, this stuff is

precious, I can't risk losing it, understand?" He muttered, trying to keep consciousness.

"Crystal." Cat replied. "Are you okay?" She asked, noticing him becoming very unsteady.

"Fine, I guess the mind things affecting me more than I thought. I can feel Jon's

anguish coming through. Come on, we need to go outside." Cat froze, turning around to him.

"Outside? I mean...you want me..."

"To come outside with me and not attempt to run. Yes." Scarecrow growled,

motioning upwards with the gun.

Cat and Scarecrow spent over an hour carefully carrying the bodies outside their hideout

and walking along dark alleyways to skips rather close to the hideout.

"But what if people find them? Won't the police get involved? Then you'll be found!" Cat

whispered after dumping the last body, eyeing the gun pointed at her stomach.

"Babe, this is the Narrows." Scarecrow croaked, "No one will care if they find a body, they'll

assume it's just a hobo taking a nap." Cat nodded, looking up and staring intently at the top of the

buildings.

"The Bat won't be looking for you Cat." He growled. Cat's head remained in a fixed position.

"It's not that." She whispered again, "This is the first time I've been outside in over a

year. I've forgotten what it felt to see the sun, or feel the breeze." She stared at the setting sun.

Scarecrow looked at her, sweating and feeling himself shake with Jonathan's fear, yet he couldn't

help but be moved by the way the setting sun hit her eyes, making them look like dark pools of oil.

He shook himself out of it, feeling his legs begin to buckle.

"Come on Cat, we need to get back." He muttered, taking her hand and gently tugging at her

to follow him. Cat looked down. It was clear that Scarecrow was not in a fit state to guard her, his

eyes kept slipping in and out of focus and he kept losing the power in his arm, causing the gun to

droop. This was Cat's chance to run and never look back. She held her breath, just for a second, then

took Scarecrow under his armpits and started half dragging him back to the hideout.

"You're in bad shape." She told him, "Not to state the obvious or anything. Just feel free to

go out of consciousness, I'll get us back." Scarecrow regarded her from heavily hooded eyes.

"Were you going to run then?" He tried to sound threatening, but just sounded tired. Cat

nodded.

"Yeah"

"And yet you stay? Why?" Cat looked away.

"I don't know. Let's just get back to the hideout before it gets dark

and we'll discuss Stockholm Syndrome later ok?"

Years later, Cat would muse over that decision to help Scarecrow instead of running, wonder

how different her life would be if she'd have gotten away. Mostly, she would wonder exactly what

went through her mind at the time, she honestly couldn't remember. Then Jonathan would call her

from another room, and she'd smile and just mutter "Destiny I guess."

Getting back into the hideout, Cat nearly collapsed pulling Scarecrow up the stairs, she

cursed under her breath at only eating one meal again that day as she was feeling lightheaded and

Scarecrow and Jonathan weren't doing anything to help the light headiness. Dropping Scarecrow on

the bed, Cat ran to the bathroom, tearing a strip off her shirt and running it under the tap. Going

back to his room, she placed it on his forehead and massaging it gently. Scarecrow looked up bleary eyed.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked incredulously. Cat looked at him blankly.

"Well they...er...do it in the films." She muttered lamely. Scarecrow seized her arm

"Look, what's going on in our head, it's chaos! Jonathan's coming out and I can't

help it. I don't think he can. I don't like to admit that I'm weak, if you remind me of this at any point,

I swear, I'll do to you what you did to Strange, but I need you to look after Johnny ok? I need to go

under and try and fix his mind from the inside." Cat's eyes widened.

"Is he alright? Seriously?" Scarecrow bowed his head.

"I don't know. I'll try and sort it." He growled, letting his eyes droop. Cat suddenly

seized him by the shoulders.

"Wait!" She yelled, "What was she like? Really? This Sherry?"Scarecrow growled in

frustration, but obliged.

"Blonde. Gorgeous, some cheerleader." He explained. Cat looked away dejectedly.

"But she could never take out five men with as much style as that babe, so count

that as a bonus." He chuckled briefly before dropping his head on the pillow and closing his eyes.

Cat looked down worriedly.

"Scarecrow?" She whispered cautiously, peering down at a body which contained the lost

little boy and the over protective spirit which shared and protected him. The eyes suddenly flew

open, by the clear sky blue, Cat could tell that Crane was back in the building. His eyes were wide

with fear, he sat up quickly as if trying to escape whatever haunted him in his mind. Cat caught him

in her arms and pulled him into a hug, trying to soothe him.

"Shhhh, Jonathan, it's ok, you're safe now." She whispered. Crane sat rigidly for a second,

before responding to Cat's safe embrace, draping his arms around her and burying his head in her

shoulders, trying to muffle his cries.

"Catherine?" He whispered uneasily, unsure if he was still stuck in a nightmare. Cat smiled

encouragingly.

"Yes Jon, it's Cat. It's your Sparrow." She smiled, thrilled that he now recognised her (though

a small voice in her head screamed at her and her stupidity. Cat barely heard it). Crane clung to her

closer and cried.

"Little friend." He whispered into her shoulder.

"Tell me what you saw" Cat whispered. Crane had always encouraged her to be open with

him during their sessions ("I am your God Catherine, your master and the centre of your world. You

must be open with me, I am the only one you can trust." He had said), she hoped he would be

equally open to her.

"I wasn't much at school." He whispered, "No one wanted to be the friend of the nerd...the

Scarecrow." He whispered painfully, clutching Cat harder.

"I saw." She replied back, "My darling, I saw everything. I saw that jock, I saw what he did. I

understand now. I understand why you listened so intently when I told you about being bullied,

when I was nearly beaten up...I...I saw your grandmother Crane." Crane's shoulders heaved.

"You...you saw that?" He asked edgily. Cat nodded.

"I have spent my entire life trying to get away from my Grandmother's ghost. My

earliest memories are of my Grandmother telling me I'm evil and a sin. I'm illegitimate you see. My

mother was young when she had me, my dad...well, I never knew him. I just have his name to know

him by. Well, my Grandmother was rather big on religion so in her eyes, I was a sin bound for hell,

nothing I could tell her made her warmer towards me. Even when I was beaten at school, she

believed I started the fight. Imagine being beaten up every day of your school life, then to go home

and suffer at...by that. I was always bullied. When I was young, I was bullied for my

appearance...even then, I was called...Scarecrow." He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that he could

never see her eyes again. "And the, one day, I walked into a library and discovered...I discovered

science. I discovered math, I discovered psychology, classics. My Grandmother was convinced

science was evil as it contradicted the bible. This became my rebellion." Crane smiled. Cat smiled

over his shoulder too. This reflected her so much, fighting to beat Jamie, then discovering history

and a knack for recalling anecdotes. It was her rebellion against the shadow her brother had a habit

of casting her under. Cat was always better at history, it would always be held as her greatest

achievement that she was the one who got the A in A level history over Jamie's B. However,

something further troubled her.

"Crane...I saw something else...I saw...I saw your grandmother and I saw...I saw what she

did to you...in the church...with the crows." Crane stayed silent.

"Crane?" She urged.

"She thought it the best way to cleanse my sins." He sobbed bitterly, "Lock me in the

derelict church close to our house and let 'god's messengers' attack the demon in me. You saw the

suit right?" He stated, not asking. Cat nodded. "I learnt later that she rubbed the suit with rat's blood

to attract the crows. I used to pray that I was a Scarecrow, then I could scare them off. I wanted

them all to be scared of me."

"So you adopted the name they used against you?" She asked gently.

"So that the name they used to laugh at would be the one they screamed in

terror."

"Terror, yes, he who was the only one to care about me, who'd hold me after the

church...love me...Rock a bye baby in the tree top..."

Cat hitched her breath, panicking at Crane's unexpected burst into a nursery rhyme. Her

heart began racing at the idea of Crane's effects of Strange's gun, but tried to calm herself,

reminding herself that Scarecrow was underneath, trying to save him. She smiled at what he had

said, she understood. Her own name Psyche, always gave her power, always made her feel as if she

could kick off the ground and fly. She smiled inwardly. Crane had given her those boots to feel like

Psyche. She pulled him away from her shoulder and stared into his eyes.

"And he stayed with you, unlike my own Psyche." She whispered. "Crane...don't you see?

You've left that life behind, you're no longer the bullied nerd, those freaks are washed up by now.

Look at you! What did you do after school?" Crane's eyes looked at her in confusion.

"I...er...got to University early on a scholarship. I was the youngest person to get a

doctorate." Cat nodded encouragingly.

"That's great! Then what? Strange said that you two were at Arkham together?"

"I got director of Arkham almost immediately after getting my doctorate, the

youngest director as a matter of fact."

"That's so cool." Cat exclaimed with sincere excitement. Crane looked at her pensively.

"Catherine, when people learn something as tragic as my life story, I always get the

same look. Pity. I admit, it is a luxury to not see pity in your eyes. I'm confused though, I see

something other than pity, it almost looks like..."

"Admiration...Jonathan." Cat finished, "You, you went through crap! That bitch of a

Grandmother, she should have loved you! She should have...and let me tell you, you're not the

victim anymore, you've risen, you've got the power you wanted. I remember that day at the bank,

everyone screamed your name, I've been at your mercy for a year, you have more power than any

politician or man I've ever known. Tell me, please tell me you're still with me! Please tell me that

that freak's attempts to get to you worked? Please..." She was cut off however, Crane had moved in,

kissing her on the mouth. Cat squeaked slightly in surprise, but only for a second. Words could not

explain the feeling of Crane kissing her, she felt such electricity flow into her mouth, such heat ran

through her body that she wondered if she was being pumped with magic. She closed her eyes and

responded back with fervour, developed from months of isolation and loneliness, underlined by a

desire to be close to the who had spoken more sense to her than anybody else in the world. They

pulled away simultaneously, both coming up for breath. Crane smiled at a breathless Cat.

"I assure you my Sparrow, my counterpart and I are working together at the moment, I

should be fine..._Working together, singing a happy song."_ Crane stopped suddenly, putting his hand

to his mouth in horror. Cat put her hand on his cheek soothingly.

"It'll be ok Jon...you'll make it through, I promise you." Crane smiled at her.

"But this is nothing like Stockholm Syndrome, right Catherine?" He growled

sarcastically . Cat smiled.

"Of course not , this is more...well, let's call it an epiphany." She replied, giggling. Crane

smiled back.

"As long as I'm better than Sherry." She retorted. Crane bared his teeth.

"Catherine, you have more elegance in your little finger than Sherry had in her

entire body." He growled, "My little friend, I wish I had met you when I was younger. I wish it was

you and me against the world at high school, other than me and the Scarecrow. We would have

taken on the world." Cat put her forehead to his.

"You and me against the world and the crows." She joked, eyes closed. Crane was still

shaking, but he chuckled back. Suddenly, he pulled away. Cat's eyes flew open, horrified.

"Crane...what...?"

"Hush." He whispered, looking towards the door sharply. "Hear that?" Cat shook her head, "Wait here." And he got out of the bed, heading through the door, "Stay here Sparrow." He

growled before leaving.

Cat sat up, her mind spinning. She waited for the voice in her head to start screaming at her

for kissing her captor, but it never came. Her mind merely screamed in withdrawal agony at being

separated from Crane's kiss.

"If I felt that when I was in church, I would have carried on going after I finished doing Girl

Guides." She whispered out loud, head spinning at the ecstasy she had felt.

"You say that, he's not here now, think you scared him off." The voice suddenly piped up maliciously. Cat growled.

"Shut up will you! He's just heard a bang. I didn't hear anything, he's just had a brain

thingy fired at him, he'll be back." Suddenly, she heard banging up the stairs. "There you go." She

smiled, "He's realised it's all in his mind, just because he's protective of me! He's coming now, he's

coming bac..."

Suddenly, the door burst open. She jumped forward on the bed hungrily, animalistic ally

excited at her and Crane's forthcoming night together. She had spent a year in his company, she felt

naked before him now, he knew everything about her and now, she knew the darkest thing about

him, now, all floodgates were open, he was no longer the captor and she the captive, they were

equals, two lost children from two different backgrounds, finding each other. She looked up now,

teeth bared. Over the months, Crane had broken down the barriers she had built, she wasn't shy and

covered in a mask of make-up, she was natural she was bare for him. Suddenly, she screamed,

jumping back from the bed and diving under the covers. The man in the door wasn't Crane, he didn't

even look like Crane. Detective Bullock stood at the door in full riot gear, holding a gun. He had been

psyching himself up all evening for the storming of Crane's headquarters after a tip off who had

informed the police that Cat Adams and the Scarecrow had been spotted in the Narrows, with the

infamous Cat being held at gunpoint. What he had expected was scores of henchmen and a huge

shoot out. What none of them had expected was an empty house and merely meeting Crane on the

stairs. After accosting the obviously weak Crane, they had climbed the stairs to find the poor

creature that was Cat. Bullock had expected a girl in a small cell, tied up and drugged. What he had

never expected in his life was to see the girl on a double bed, writhing around like an animal. Bullock

would admit years later that he had seen many horrors in his line of work, but seeing the girl who

looked so sweet and loving on her photos, resembled nothing more than a demon or wild dog.

"When I saw those eyes, I nearly dropped to my knees in prayer." He would recall. Right at

that point however, in his shock, the usually stoic policeman managed to merely mutter:

"Found her boss."

**A/N: And now things become serious, questions need to be answered and decisions need to be made by which there can be no going back. Also, I've realised I'm quite sad. Private Show was written after I dreamt it (I was in the place of Cat). Had another dream which will be another chapter. I'll tell you when it comes on so that you can see the very weird workings of my mind. Right, just short of 11 thousand words there, could have split it up, but could not decide where to cut this off at lol. As always, rate and review! This chapter took the longest to write and I need to know peoples thoughts**

**xxxx**


	14. I Killed Eddie Del Mayo

**Ok, I'll admit, last chapter was a little too long. Apologise for it, I'll atone by cutting this chapter in two, stay tuned for the next, when this story dives headlong into a new era. However, now we rejoin her after her 'rescue.'**

**Chapter 14: I'm the One Who Killed Eddie Del Mayo**

Cat paced the room restlessly, her mind still whirling. Two hours ago, the police had burst into her room and pulled her from the bed. She dimly remembered being dragged outside and seeing

Jonathan being bundled into a van, almost without a fight.

"Let me see him!" She had screamed, fighting out of the not too rough grip of Bullock and racing towards the van before she was tackled by an ensemble of cops. Crane looked out at her, rising a

little when he saw Cat being tackled to the ground. The cop in the van with him immediately growled, launching on Crane and sticking him with a tazer, causing him to scream before he was bundled

into a straight jacket and the doors were slammed shut. Cat looked up as the van began to pull away, screaming after it

"CRANE!" She couldn't think, her mind was shot by the shock, she didn't register that she was outside or that there were more people around her who hadn't been held captive for a year, but

most of all, she did not register that Crane was now out of her life.

"It's over now Catherine, you're free." Commissioner James Gordon murmured softly, couching down to Cat on the ground. Inside, Jim Gordon was beaming, a year of searching and Catherine

Adams had finally been found alive. He had to admit, when he had seen the blood in the hallway and open living room, he had quickly assumed the worst, turning pale and feeling like he

was going to vomit, seeing Crane descend the stairs alone, he had hitched his breath expecting a gas attack and had ducked, much like the rest of the squad. However, when no toxin came, Gordon

looked back up, shocked to see Crane defenceless and looking incredibly weak, muttering to himself. Some brave cops ran forward to apprehend him, expecting the worst, but when Crane offered only

piece meal resistance, they became braver and more rougher in subduing him.

"Where's the girl Crane?" Growled Bullock, marching forward and seizing Crane's hair roughly and pulling it backwards. Crane screamed like a child, but then began to whisper.

"Who sees with equal eye as God of all, a hero perish, or a sparrow fall." He sang gently. Bullock did not hear.

"What? Speak up you bastard, where's Catherine Adams?" Crane looked up at him through a curtain of thick black hair.

"Catherine Adams? I'm not sure I know anyone who goes by that name." Bullock growled.

"If you've harmed her Crane, I'll make it my personal mission to see you sent to the

chair, now where is she?" Crane put his head back down and started half consciously singing about

the little old lady who lived in a shoe. Bullock growled again I frustration and let go of Crane.

"Enough of this crap." He had declared, pulling his gun and running up the stairs as fast as his bulky

figure would let him. Gordon began to follow, expecting Cat to be dead in a cell, readying his

condolence speech to the Adams family whom he had been in close contact with for a year now. He

closed his eyes, his stomach dropping at the thought of telling her mother whom he had vowed to

that he would find her daughter that he'd failed, when he'd heard Bullock announce from up the

stairs: "Found her boss."

He had felt relief then, but hours later, he walked into Cat's room at the hospital to see her

throw herself on the bed in a style befitting his own daughter when she was annoyed at something,

staring up at the ceiling with fixed eyes. He sat down in a chair next to her.

"How are you feeling Miss Adams?" He asked gently, they had had to subdue Cat when

Crane was driven away, to protect herself and the safety of his officers before she could be

transported to hospital, though by now, the drug was beginning to wear off. Cat continued to stare

at the ceiling, not replying to Gordon.

"I've spoken to your parents." He continued, maintaining his soothing voice, "They're on the

first plane here. I must say, you've got quite an entourage coming to see you, your mother, your

father, your sister, your brother and his daught.." Cat looked up sharply.

"Daughter?" She whispered. So Sophie had had the baby had she? The commissioner nodded.

"Your niece. Catherine Hope Adams. They named her after you and gave her the name

Hope as they were convinced it was a sign you'd be back. Looks like they were right." Cat smiled.

"How old is she?"

"Just two months old, they say she's a beauty, very pretty. Apparently, your mother

told me that she looks like you when you were a baby."

"Poor kid." Cat muttered bitterly. Gordon raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think so, if she looks like you, hopefully she'll grow up to be just like her

aunt. I must say, hopefully she'll have a twelfth of your courage." She looked at Gordon.

"I don't respond to flattery well Commissioner." She said sourly, her mouth twisted into a

bitter smile, "I certainly wouldn't call it courageous what I did." Gordon shook his head.

"Oh really? Well, I've known the Scarecrow for a very long time Miss Adams, not only have

you survived a year, but despite a little malnutrition, you seem to have come out of this well. Simply

being here and being sane. That shows courage, wouldn't you agree?"

Cat said nothing. She stared at Gordon for what seemed like forever, before whispering,

"When will they be here?"

"Tomorrow." He replied. "It's a long ride from Britain to Gotham, but I'm sure both you and

them have waited a year for this so another day wouldn't hurt." He stood up from his chair, "I'm

afraid I have business to attend to Cat, I'll be back in later." And began to walk away. Suddenly, he

heard something faint which made him turn around. "What did you say Catherine?"

Cat was laying on the bed, eyes now fixed back to the ceiling, gently singing "It's true, we're

all a little, insane."

Outside, Batman and Dr. Cox, Gotham General hospital's chief Psychiatrist were waiting for Gordon.

"How is she?" Batman growled. Gordon sighed.

"She's just been liberated after a year of being held by one of Gotham's big

crackpots. I suppose we should have expected this." Batman put his head to one side.

"She attempted to bite one of my policemen when they tried to stop her running after the

van, then she screams like a banshee when Bullock tries to calm her down. Whatever Crane did to

her there, it's certainly taken its toll on her, she's going to need a lot of therapy when she gets back

to England."

"You think she should go back to England in this state instead of receiving treatment here?"

Dr. Cox asked. Batman turned to the doctor.

"The sooner she's out of Gotham the better. If I know Crane, he'll find a way out of Arkham,

and when he does, who do you think will be the first person he'll go after? He's very possessive is

Crane, it's a good job we got Miss Albright out of this city and into another state before he could

escape again." Gordon looked up in shock.

"My god. You don't think Adams will be another Albright do you?" Batman growled.

"It's a possibility Jim, it's a possibility. Most of all though, I'm worried about her. I

wouldn't say she has Stockholm Syndrome, but she's been with him for a year, the blood in the living

room wasn't hers or his. What she must have seen during her time, it's got to affect her more than

anyone will ever know."

"This is mental!" Cat muttered to herself, "I'll be back in England soon, I'll never see Jonathan Crane

again!" She looked around the room, expecting to hear Crane's voice come through on a speaker to

scold at her, or say something sarcastic to make her smile. To her disappointment however, she

heard nothing, for there were no speakers, no more buttons, no more Jonathan Crane watching her

every move.

So why did she feel sad?

"Be happy!" She willed herself, "Please be happy. You're free. You're free." She felt

the tears begin to fall.

"Why am I so sad?" She sobbed.

"Why so mental?" Snapped her conscience, "Singing THAT to Commissioner Gordon

was not bright!" Cat closed her embarrassed.

"I have no idea, it just seemed like a good song at the time. Remember when I did that to

Crane?" Inwardly she smiled. Once, during their sessions, she had sang Brass in Pocket, placing

emphasis on the line "I'm special, so special." It made her laugh remembering the look Crane had

given her, before she challenged him to join in with her. It surprised her to learn that Crane was

actually a huge Carpenters fan, leading to a three hour conversation about music therapy. Her mind

smiled at her.

"That was a good day, or hour. I don't remember." She giggled to herself. "Such a shame no

one gets my sense of humour anymore, it was good having someon..."

"Good morning Miss Adams, I'm Doctor Cox, your Psychiatrist. Before we let you sleep, we

just need to check you're ok, Commissioner Gordon told me you tore your IV out again?" Cat sighed.

"They weren't in properly. They were hurting me." She explained. Dr. Cox nodded,

scribbling something down on his clipboard.

"You don't believe me do you?" Cat asked annoyed. Cox simply smiled. Cat tried to ignore

the infuriated feeling bubbling in her stomach.

"You shouldn't take them out Catherine, they're important, you are severely

malnourished." Cox said patronisingly. Cat closed her eyes.

"You know, you're not like my last shrink." She muttered.

"Oh?" Asked Cox, raising his eyebrows. She smiled.

"Oh yes. He didn't think skipping a meal or two was a bad idea. I suppose

this is the classic case of the second opinion? Oh, I'd also say I preferred his House approach to

medicine, this classic Freudian "the patient's right even though I think they're coo coo" is just a bit

annoying."

"Of course Cat, your experience will affect you like this, but please, at least try and

remember to be civil." He replied cheerily, re-hooking Cat's IV tubes. "Now, let's get some sleep for

the rest of the night. You need your sleep, we have given initial looks over, you'll be needing further

therapy." Cat dropped her mouth, "Just to help, patients in your position usually show post

traumatic stress syndrome. We need further obs, it's just for your own good." And promptly left.

Cat threw her head back on the pillow heavily, sighing.

"My old shrink listened when I was insulting him too." She grumbled, but what she

really meant to say was: "My old shrink was better looking." She sighed and let herself just drift into

sleep. She had screamed and cried in the last few hours, she hadn't realised how tired she was.

_She was stood in the middle of her old school hall on the stage. She looked around to see _

_what play was going on, when she screamed in shock. All the actors on stage were people in her life, _

_but they were all in masks of themselves._

_ "Well this is creepy and slightly clichéd at the same time." She muttered. In front of her, _

_actors wearing the masks of her brother and Sophie. They were holding baby Cathy._

_ "Hold your niece Cat?" The masked version of her brother asked. She smiled and accepted the baby._

_ "She's lovely guys! Congrats!" She beamed. Down. _

_ "Cat!" her mother bustled on to the stage. "So glad you can be back for this! To see _

_your nieces and nephews grow up." Cat smiled too._

_ "Me too mum, but maybe Claire and Jay can return the favour, you know, watch my kids _

_grow up one day." Emma Adams smiled._

_ "Perhaps." She said simply. Cat remembered that tone Emma Adams always used to make _

_when she was a child, when she didn't want to say no._

_ The actors bowed, leaving Cat alone. Suddenly, dancers appeared on stage, all in suits and _

_dancing with stacks of paperwork, which they expertly juggled. Cat cried out in surprise. They all _

_wore masks like her. They began closing in on her. Closing her eyes and bringing her hands to her _

_face. She slowly opened them, panicking that the fast music had disappeared. She lowered her hands _

_to see the workers in suits had turned into suitors. Each as pitiful and disappointing as the last. Each _

_one swept her into their arms and began to dance with her, but she fought each of them off. _

_ "Having fun Sparrow?" A familiar voice came behind her. Cat spun round. Jonathan Crane _

_was stood there at the back centre of the stage, but with one exception to the rest. He wasn't _

_wearing a mask._

_ "Crane!" She squeaked. "What is this?" Crane raised his eyebrows._

_ "You tell me Catherine, this is your dream." He said cockily, "I must say, the masks _

_are a nice touch. What goes on in your head sometimes?" Cat growled._

_ "You're a cocky son of a bitch sometimes, you know that?" Crane smiled sardonically._

_ "Lucky for you then, I'm out of your life now." Cat froze._

_ "I know." She stammered, "But...well...it'll be weird...never talking to you again." Crane _

_raised his eyebrows._

_ "Just talking Sparrow? You mean you won't miss..."_

NO!

Cat's eyes flew open, she was panting heavily. She reached out to grab Crane, thinking that she was

still in his bed and he was still guarding her against Eddie. Of course, he wasn't there and she wasn't

on a double bed anymore, so promptly rolled off and hit the floor hard.

"Owwww!" She screeched, waking up properly, "Crane! Wherever you are, I'm blaming you

for that one!"

"That's funny to say, seeing as I'd blame him for more than causing me to fall out of bed in

the morning."

Cat squeaked and looked up. A man in black leather and a bat cowl stood over her. Cat

smiled. She remembered that day in the bank, the man who stood by and watched her being

dragged off by Eddie.

"Ah, Bat. Man." Cat crooned, reminded irresistibly of the way Crane used to pronounce his

name. "We've met only once, but I feel I know everything about you."

"Not everything I hope." Batman said smiling, "I suppose Crane filled you in on me?" Cat

returned the smile.

"Oh bats, if I was to say yes, would that inflate your ego? But yeah, Crane told me about you,

how you gassed him with his own gas, or the multiple times you've beaten him up. I must say, that's

just mean." Batman spluttered in surprise.

"You've suffered for a year at the hands of a madman, he's tortured you and quite clearly

starved you, and you chide me for protecting the city against him? Of all the things he did to

you...Catherine, I have to ask you, did he do anything to you? Did he...did he..."

"Rape me?" Cat finished bluntly. Batman nodded.

"Forgive me, we just need to know. You need therapy to help you cope with what you've

been through, we can't help you unless you tell us exactly what he did to you."

"You're not like the rest of the doctors you know?" Cat giggled, "Must say, I prefer this sort

of blunt approach to the nicey nice approach everyone seems to have here." Batman stared at her.

She wasn't like most people who had been rescued from the Scarecrow's clutches. Batman closed

his eyes, remembering those bodies, pulled out the river with faces contorted in fear, or those who

had been found with their own tongues bitten out. Catherine Adams however, was sat upright on

the bed, starring right at him, being very blunt and...Batman looked into her eyes. There was nothing

but burning hatred there.

"Jonathan never touched me in that way, he only ever hit me when I was insolent, or used

the gases on me for his experiments." Batman's eyes widened at how casually Cat was describing

her year of violence at Scarecrow's hands. Her mouth contorted bitterly. "But if you want to know,

really want to know the fucked up year I've had, I'd stop blaming Jonathan. You want to talk about

been dragged through shit. Well, you remember the man who dragged me out of the bank?

Remember when you could have shot him right there and then? That man tried to rape me. Yeah,

through all the crap Crane put me through, I survived it, I survived anything that freak threw at me,

but I'll tell you something, when that pig came running at me, give me Crane making me think I was

covered in bees anytime! Give me that anytime over some bastard straddling me." Batman had

listened to this entire confession with his mouth open. He marvelled at Cat's strength at brushing

off Crane's using the toxin on her, but he had not been prepared for Cat's admission at nearly been

raped. What's more, Batman closed his eyes when he realised the facts. Cat was blaming him for

what she went through.

"I have to say, Crane taught me many things whilst I was with him, taught me not to be

scared anymore, taught me that only weak people screamed, but in that moment, I've never felt

weaker, more stupid. You're the one who stood there with his mouth open like some fucking fish

whilst I was dragged off by that psycho."

"I...I'm sorry." Batman mumbled, feeling cut down by this small woman. He looked at her.

Despite the clear misplaced anger, she was right. He had stood there whilst she had been kidnapped.

He marvelled at her power at surviving the horror of Crane, but recognised that she had clearly

gone through hell.

"You're sorry are you Batman? How easy it is for you to say that." Cat spat maliciously,

"Crane told me that you're the one everyone looks to to protect them in this city. What about me

when I needed rescuing huh? Or is it because I'm not American? Was I exempt from your services?

Gordon tells me I'm brave for surviving what I went through. That's like congratulating a retard on

breathing, I didn't do anything brave, I just did what I needed to. "

"Now hold on there." Snapped Batman. Cat snapped back first though. "No, you hold on. I

didn't need you then. There have been two major incidents in my life. Being kidnapped and being

nearly raped. Don't worry, he paid for it..."

"Er...how did he pay for it? Did Crane kill him or..." Cat cackled.

"Oh no Batman, Crane didn't do anything to Eddie. I'm the one who did something.

I'm the one who killed Eddie Del Mayo."

"Crane made you kill him?" Batman growled in surprise. Cat looked at him piteously.

"Why would you say that? Well yes. Ok, he may have suggested that I take action,

but to be honest bats, I think I knew what I was doing. I tried to hate Crane for it, but he was right.

There was no justice that day, nothing I could have done would have delivered the right retribution,

apart from my own hand. There is no justice in the world, there is no order, there is just you and

however you want to live. I say take your share, and crush those who seek to destroy you." Batman

could not bear to hear such words come from this sweet girl's mouth anymore. He seized her

shoulders.

"Stop it. Just stop it. I failed you, and as a result, you suffered more than anybody should

suffer in a lifetime. I cannot say sorry enough for what you went through, but you must listen to

reason! You are talking like..like..."

"Like the Scarecrow?" Cat asked snidely. Batman shuddered.

"Yes. You need help Catherine! You need to get far away from here, you need to get

far away from Gotham and Jonathan Crane. You've been in a dark place, you need help."

"Help forgetting everything I've learnt this year?" Cat demanded, "He makes more sense to

me than anything in this world! I killed five men today, five evil, twisted men who took joy in

torturing a defenceless man to death..."

"You killed for Jonathan Crane. I have seen the tape..."

"What tape?" Screeched Cat. Then she remembered and closed her eyes in shame.

The goon who was filming the scene. Of course! Scarecrow was so preoccupied at the time with

Crane, she should have spotted it! Crane would be embarrassed to know that a tape of him at his

weakest point would be floating around for anyone to see, he would be so humiliated! Cat's mind

panicked at how angry Scarecrow would be at her for forgetting!

"You killed so many men for him! I saw you kill Strange, you tortured him, then you ran to

Crane. I saw everything."

"What's your point?" She spat veminously. Batman sighed, pulling photos. He laid the two

photos out in front of her on the bed. Cat looked down at them shakily. Both pictures contained

women. She stared hard at one. A red haired woman covered in bruises adorned one.

"Who the hell is this?" Snapped Cat. The woman wasn't pretty to say the least, and the

shiner on her right eye didn't help.

"What am I supposed to get from this?" Demanded Cat poisonously. Batman growled hard.

"That's Becky Albright, a student from Gotham who testified against Crane at a trial..."

And so he roughed her up a little? That's understandable to say the guys a villain." Cat

muttered sarcastically. Batman's eyes narrowed.

"No, on the contrary, he fell in love with her." Cat sat up straight, eyes wide in shock. "He fell

in love with her and offered to make her his...what was it? Mistress of Fear? Even made her her own

costume." He placed another photo in front of Cat, this one showed a poorly stitched together

costume. The mask resembled that of a Scarecrow, only more features on it . The actually costume

made Cat gasp in alarm. It was lewd to say the least, cobbled together with netting and fishnets,

with a bit of brown potato sacking to cover the breasts.

"What the fuck is this?" Whispered Cat, her voice shaking in shock. Batman smiled inwardly,

hopefully, this would make her see, make her realise.

"The costume he made specifically for her." Batman explained, praying that she saw sense,

"He declared her his. Crane has a habit of coveting women and declaring them his. He was not

happy Becky turned him down. Attacked her, gassed her, I'm pretty sure he would have killed her if I

hadn't have gotten there in time." Cat felt her stomach turn. Crane tried to kill a woman, just for

disagree...Suddenly, she heard her own voice echo through her head...

"_You care about him don't you?"_ She reopened her eyes. Was Batman calling Crane or

Scarecrow a monster? Was Batman under the impression that Jonathan Crane and the Scarecrow

were the same?

"What happened? To Becky I mean." She whispered.

"I got her out of the city." Batman explained, "She now lives in Tulsa under a new name. It's

the only way I could protect her." Cat looked at him neutrally.

"And me Batman? What about me?" He let himself smile.

"You won't need protection. This time tomorrow, you'll be on the first plane back to

England with your family, Crane can't get out of this state, you'll be safe, I assume that you'll never

want to leave England after this huh?" Cat looked at him sharply.

"I don't know Batman, I'll be travelling again after this! I've always wanted to see Japan."

Batman chuckled.

"Miss Adams, I have spoken to your mother, I somehow doubt that you'd be allowed over

the English Channel after this." Cat bowed her head. She could see that he was right, Emma Adams

was over protective of her daughter at the best of times. Cat could see that her mother would never

let her be now. Cat sighed

"One cell for another." She thought bitterly. Looking back to the pictures, she picked up two

more pictures. One was of a devastatingly pretty blonde girl in a cheerleaders outfit.

"Well she'd be the first to die in a cheesy horror." Cat's inner voice growled. She didn't

need telling who this was. Sherry.

"I want you to look at this Cat." Batman urged, "This is a girl from Crane's past. Sherry

Squires. Crane lusted over her, coveted her. They were at high school together, one Halloween

dance, he snuck up on her boyfriend's car with those two inside, dressed as a Scarecrow. Scared

them so much, her boyfriend Bo accidentally hit the acceleration. He was paralysed for life. She

died." Cat's mouth fell open.

"Bo...Bo Griggs?" She asked shakily. Batman looked at her confused.

"Crane er...told me about him...quid pro quo once...I think." She stuttered. Batman

smiled back, but inwardly, he was panicking. Crane was in her head, it was plain to see this, whilst he

was describing Sherry Squires and Bo Griggs, he carefully watched her. To his dismay, her face was

dead the entire time she looked, apart from after she learnt of Bo Griggs. At that point, he could

have sworn to his horror that he saw a smile play along her mouth. He was going to have to step this

up a gear.

"Crane is one of the most dangerous criminals on the streets of Gotham Cat, he feels

nothing and being associated with him is just suicidal. This woman here." He explained, pointing to

an old picture of a very familiar fat, bitter looking woman peering sternly at the camera (Cat felt a

surge of hatred), "was Crane's grandmother. Miriam Keeny, practically raised him. At the age of 15

however, do you know what happened? He killed her, strangled her in her own sitting room. Crane's

a monster Cat! I can't embellish this more, you've had a lucky escape Catherine, being in close

contact with Jonathan Crane, you've gone through hell but you've survived. You're clearly a survivor

Cat, please, please please. Help us to help you, let us in to get him out!" Cat looked at him the entire

time, quiet, eyes dead. When Batman finished, she continued to watch him, deadpan. After what

seemed like a lifetime, she pulled out of the bed and walked towards the window, dragging the drip

along with her. She peered out of the window, taking in the sight of the rolling city below her,

bathed in the early morning sun.

"I've gone an entire year without seeing daylight." She said quietly, "Yesterday evening was

the first time I'd seen the sun in such a long time, it was so beautiful when it was setting behind the

buildings." Batman looked up at the scene in front of him, it confused him as she didn't look sad, or

broken. On the contrary, Cat looked dangerous, brooding. "Even now, I can see this city in the

sunrise. It's so new to me again, I think it could even be compared to when I used to watch it in

Thailand. But something's wrong." She turned around to see Batman rise from his chair and start

coming towards her, "I'm looking through this window like a goldfish bowl. I feel so suffocated

here." Batman froze in the middle of the room. Her voice was so firm, so terrifying . It did not belong

to that small childlike girl at the window. She looked up at him and, noticing his look, smiled

normally.

"Of course, when I'm back home, I'll run through the fields near to my home and dance

under the stars. Perhaps then I'll feel better, away from here." Batman relaxed his shoulders.

"Of course, when you're free of everything and you can get the proper therapy to free you

from Crane."

Cat smiled serenely at Batman, "God willing Batman. God willing. But please, please tell me,

where is he now? Where's Crane?" Batman put his hand on her shoulder softly, sighing heavily.

"I think it's best you don't know, don't you? Just know that he's somewhere where he can't

hurt you anymore." He said it with such finality as Crane would use, to let her know that she should

stop asking.

"Your parents will arrive at 9 o clock this evening Cat, try and look towards that." Cat

suddenly spun round violently.

"Oh my god!" She screeched, "They're coming to this hospital? No! No, they can't see me

here! Anywhere but here." Batman stared at her, but finally nodded.

"Of course, you haven't seen each other in a year. My good friend Bruce Wayne would be

more than happy to have you and your parents reunited in his home. If that is more to your taste?"

Cat's mind was spinning, suddenly, she didn't want her parents to see her in this bleak, sterile

environment.

"I'll talk to the commissioner." Batman promised. "Until then, get a shower, talk to the

doctors, prepare yourself for tonight." He picked up the photo of Frida on the nightstand besides the

bed which had been found by the nurses under her bra when they had changed her when they

brought her in and offered it to her. "Prepare yourself to see your dog again Cat. According to your

mum, she misses you." Cat smiled and bid him goodbye as he left her room. Long

after he was gone, Cat continued to watch the door, clutching her photo of Fria to her chest.

"You were right Hannibal." She whispered, feeling her anger resurface at what she had had

to hear about him, how wrong Batman had gotten it, "He's such an idiot!" She then bowed her head

to the floor, "I don't know your back story Batman, but a man who parades round a city in a mask

like you should know, monsters aren't born, they're made."


	15. How did she taste?

**Ok, I lied. This section isn't split into two, it'll be in three sections. Next chapter, I promise promise PROMISE that the fun and action will begin, but when I wrote this, I decided that Crane needed his own chapter to let his thoughts and feelings be known as I realised after a conversation with Akitaku (author of the amazing Harvest Moon Fable), that Psyche is as much about Crane as it is about Cat (plus this may be a nolanverse fic but that doesn't mean I need to make Hannibal a minor character like Nolan did). This also lets me clear up a few questions that my readers have asked me in comments and emails. Again, I love you guys to bits. Thank you so much for reading this, remember to review afterwards.**

**On top of this, anyone out there who also draws for deviant art, keep your eyes peeled in future chapters. I'm planning on running a competition. Full details later xxx**

**Chapter 15: How Did She Taste?**

"Wow, it sounds like she had issues." Terry joked, "And you never once thought in that

meeting that she needed sticking in a straight jacket? I mean, come on, he girl had just admitted to

you six counts of murder and you're still shocked at what happened?" Bruce Growled at him

"It's not funny. At some point in your service as Batman, you will come across those

who have suffered, and I mean, really suffered. You will see good people turn as a result, maybe

even your oldest friends, but you will always cling to that past knowledge of them and think they're

still the same person underneath all the hate and suffering. You have to cling to that sometimes,

otherwise you'll wake up one day and never take up the cowl again because you think everyone's

doomed. I saw the madness in her eyes. I saw the hatred and insanity, but what she told me, it

wasn't any different to any other person kidnapped by the rogue gallery. Catherine had spent a year

with Crane who had taught her all these mind games to play on people who try and dominate you.

She showed me only an inch of her mind that day, the rest of the hatred and insanity, she kept

hidden. However, don't you see? Even at that point, I think she was still teetering on the edge of

sanity."

"How can you tell that?" Asked Terry. Bruce smiled ruefully.

"Very simply. She called Crane a freak, whether she was aware she did or not. In those early

days, she knew Crane wasn't infallible and in that conversation, she hated Crane as much as she did

me. She was mad at the world, she was scared and confused, but she wasn't past saving. If it hadn't

have been for that...that bastard who came to her when I was gone, I think she may still have made

it onto that plane." Terry held his head in shame. Even though he hated it when it happened, Bruce

was right. Terry thought about it and secretly agreed with Bruce, in that position, he too would have

put absolute faith in the doctors in the hope that Catherine Adams would return to England and

would co operate with her doctors, eventually pulling through the darkness.

"How different do you reckon it would have been if you hadn't left her in that room?" Bruce

bowed his eyes sadly.

"What would my life be like if my parents weren't killed in front of me Terry? That's the

million dollar question. Of course, what do I need with another million dollars for? I think Catherine

Crane would answer that question exactly the same way."

* * *

"So you got rejected again Johnny?"

"Hey Crane, bad luck again with the ladies huh? You gonna try and get revenge agai...haha!"

The taunts and laughter. Always taunting, always laughter. Every time he failed, he always

wound up back in Arkham, to be met by a chorus of jeers from the very inmates who used to fear

the man who ruled over them. He held his head in shame. Even here in solitary confinement where

he had been hauled in a straightjacket as soon as he arrived, he could still hear the taunts.

"Hey Crane, the bitch you kidnapped has just fucked her psychiatrist. She moved on quickly

didn't she? Mind you, you weren't together long were ya? A year doesn't count does it?"

Ah, so his feat of kidnapping Catherine was well known amongst the Gotham ilk.

Crane had expected the fellow members of the rogues gallery to know of his antics, but for it

to be known amongst the ordinary crazies, well, Jonathan didn't know whether to be

flattered or insulted that they felt that they had the right to even talk to him.

"Ah, I see the illustrious Doctor Crane has deigned to grace us with his presence." The snide,

cold voice of Jeremiah Arkham came from behind the glass of Crane's cell which he had instead

of a door. Crane looked up from the chair he was strapped to in a straight jacket.

Jeremiah Arkham, sole descendant of the institute's original founder, Amadeus Arkham,

stood erect from behind the safety of Crane's glass door. A small, balding man of unspectacular

stature, with watery hazel eyes and a severe inferiority complex, Arkham had always despised Crane,

starting from when Crane took control of the institute at a young age over Arkham's only

credentials, which stretched to merely a family name. When Crane had turned to a life of crime,

Arkham had been the one to replace him, only out of desperation and lack of a better option. A fact

which always rubbed at the Director, leading him to take it out on Crane every time he was in

the place. Crane peered at him through his fringe and smiled callously.

"Well, I need to make sure that my dear institution isn't being run into the ground by

incompetent staff. Besides, there are only so many times a boss can play golf before he needs to

return to work and tend to the mice." He sneered. Even though his mind felt as if it was being

pummelled by a waterfall, and his stomach felt like it was going to hurl, Crane delighted in cutting

Arkham down to size. Arkham recoiled. Even with a shaky and pained voice, Crane still commanded

absolute respect. This fact made him snarl.

"You have no right to talk to me like that Crane." He snapped, wavering the title of 'Doctor.'

Crane simply stared into space, he felt like he was going through hell from all the pain and dizziness

and decided he did not have the patience to deal with the infuriating man in front of him. He

withdrew inwardly and began humming to himself (unknown to him, he was humming 'Faithfully' by

Journey. A song he would continue to hum for the rest of his life when he was staring into space. A

trait Cat would never mention to him, but would always reward him with affection whenever he

did).

This only incensed Arkham even more. He banged on the glass as hard as he could, wishing

that he could beat his former boss (who was much younger than him, adding insult to injury)

to within an inch of his life. However, he then withdrew his hand, smiling poisonously.

"How was she?" He enquired, voice dripping with venom. Crane raised his head only slightly.

"I beg your pardon?" He mumbled dizzily. _Where the hell was Arkham going with this?_

"How was she Crane? How did she taste? A whole year with a woman, don't tell me you're

that much of a queer you never tried it on. You like power over people, don't you Crane? Tell me,

did you take her every night? How did she sound when you forced yourself on her every night? Did

she cry like Albright? Or did she enjoy it? Did she bray like a donkey?"

Crane tried to lunge forward in the chair in disgust, before his straight jacket stopped him.

He regarded Arkham with pure venom.

"You're disgusting." He whispered. "Unlike you Jeremiah, or the rest of the common ilk in

this hell hole, I do not need to violate a woman to make my dick grow pass the sad prick I have now.

I never touched Catherine like that. Ask her, she will tell you." Arkham hooted loudly.

"Ask her? You pathetic fool, do you think we don't see what you did to her? The poor bitch

would have ran all the way to this place behind the van if she hadn't have been stopped. Plus the

whole biting the cops who stopped her? I'm afraid you may have brainwashed the poor kid, but I'm

not so easy to fool Crane, and neither is the rest of the world."

Crane's eyes widened. He couldn't remember the events of the day before past Strange and

his men bursting into his hallway. He searched his mind. He remembered watching Catherine flying

above the stairs , he remembered her giggle, that laugh she always gave when she was happy. Trying

not to look up her skirt, he vaguely remembered being thrilled to see her face her fear. His mind

flashed on when she landed on the ground. Those eyes of hers, Crane searched for a word to

describe them, but he could only express them as...flaming. He remembered staring at them and

feeling his stomach bubble nervously, blushing inwardly remembering how disarmed he felt in that

one moment. He couldn't think why she made him feel the way he did in that moment, he just

remembered her eyes burning, him fixed on them and then...and then...?

Strange. Strange bursting through the door. Strange with some gun and then? And then?

Crane felt his face burst on fire remembering the hellhole of images he was hurdled into. He shut his

eyes and shook at the hell he had spent so long trying to forget, he bit his lip at remembering...them.

His Grandmother's face smiled at him evily, holding that suit. He felt a lump form in his throat,

seeing him. Bo Griggs' s smirking , superior face danced before him, raising a fist and bringing it

forward. His eyes snapped open, he could not bear to remember their faces. He had spent too long

living his life in their presence. Suddenly, one image sprung to his mind. Catherine. Catherine

gabbling on, speaking fast, her hands on his shoulders, those fiery eyes, the admiration, but panic in

her voice. In that split second, she wasn't talking to him in the scenario, she wasn't looking at

him...her eyes were closed and she was...she was...kissing him? Crane closed his eyes, trying to

remember the scene exactly, trying to call up better recall skills. The scene still did not change, there

he was, his mouth on hers, caressing her lips gently yet shyly. He tried to decode the image, thinking

that if he tried harder, it would soon click and the image would correct itself. It didn't. Instead, Crane

remembered Cat in that moment, as hard as it was to believe, she was kissing him back, with more

passion than any woman had ever shown him. He remembered pulling away first and seeing her

eyes still closed, sharply in taking breath, but with a serene and happy smile on her mouth, not

disgusted or sneering like Sherry, just before the scarecrow dummy was dropped on him, she

actually looked as if she enjoyed it.

"Why would she have enjoyed it?" He thought bitterly. It no longer mattered that Arkham

was still stood there goading him, or that his oldest friend in the prison, Jervis Tech (AKA: The Mad

Hatter) had come to the glass door of his cell opposite Crane's, all Jonathan could think about was

Catherine. Catherine kissing him. His fear for her when he had heard that creak on the stairs. It had

not crossed his mind to suit up with fear toxin, or even a gun. All that had mattered was that the

creak did not make it to Catherine. His mind went blank, he could not remember what exactly

happened on the stairs, but he did remember being in the van, looking out and seeing Catherine

running out of the building towards him. Again, her eyes told him everything about her, they were

desperate, sad...for him.

"At least the poor girl's finally free of that prison you put her in you freak, she'll be back in

England this time tomorrow. She'll go on to have a life whilst you rot in here like the scum you are.

Think about that for the rest of your sentence...well, for the rest of your life in fact." Arkham chided,

spitting on the ground and marching back to his office with the nurses.

Time passed, Jervis noted that his friend did not move. He crept forward to his glass and

waved his hand in front of Crane's face, trying to catch his attention. Seeing the flicker appear in the

blank face, he decided that Jonathan was finally in the house.

"Hello March." He smiled gently. Crane shyly peered at Tech, before slowly letting himself smile.

"Jervis." He whispered weakly. "Another plan, another failure hey?" Jervis smiled

encouragingly.

"I wouldn't say that my friend. You have been out for two years now without being

captured. I'd call it a success." He joked, hoping that Crane would break into a smile. However, to his

dismay, Jonathan put his head down, defeated. Jervis's heart jumped, panicking. He couldn't let

Crane descend into a depression, otherwise it would take weeks to snap him out of it.

"March! Please, just consider the frabjous day when you and I will escape again! We both

know the walls of this vile fortress will never hold the likes of you and me for long." His heart sunk

though, as Crane's head remained bowed. Jervis put his forehead to the glass. He had never been

one for religion, and he knew Crane despised Christianity in any shape or form, but in that moment,

Jervis could not help but be reminded of a confessional box.

"Is it your hostage Jonathan? Did you touch her like that vile Jaberwock claimed?" A tear ran

down Crane's eye. Raising his eyes slowly to Jervis, he could only whisper one thing.

"I...I'd never hurt her." Before the tears fell like the floodgates opening. Tech put a hand to

the glass. Of course. How could he ever have doubted Crane's actions? Tech was infamous across

Gotham, nicknamed the Storybook Rapist, Tech had a weakness for blonde haired, young girls. He

knew each time he heard them scream that he was sick, but he couldn't help it, he only hoped that

each girl he took would be his perfect Alice, who would love him forever. All the rest of the rogues

Gallery usually gave Tech a wide berth due to their disgust at his activities, but Crane always spoke

to him, was always friendly. Crane always looked out for Tech so as a result, Jervis always looked

after Crane when he sank into a depression. He bowed his head ashamed. Tech was the rapist. Crane

was very prim and professional when it came to hostages.

"Oh March, I cannot apologise enough. I fie is my, I know you could never hurt a woman!

Please Jon, please forgive me."

Crane could not hear however. He was in his head, screaming for Scarecrow to come to him.

He was back in that garden at his grandmother's house, but whereas Scarecrow would come to him

and hold him gently when he needed him, now, Crane was alone. Scarecrow was still in the very

bowels of his mind trying to rescue Crane's mind. Jonathan shuddered. Trapped in his straightjacket,

he began to cry. He remembered that night he and Cat had slept together in the same bed, he

closed his eyes and remembered the feel of her breath on his face, the way she'd called out to him

in fear in her sleep. He wondered weakly how she was coping. He prayed she was ok, wherever she

was. Patients who had experienced a sexually traumatic experience like her in his practice would

usually focus their frustration at their experience on a sole figure. Most extended their focus onto a

broad generalisation, most commonly, all of the male sex. He sighed. No one would pick up on her

fear probably. Sadly, whatever trauma Sparrow would exhibit, would more than likely be interpreted

as Stockholm Syndrome (a condition Crane despised and wrote off as a buzzword by those too

idiotic to understand the true complexity of human emotion or how fear influenced everyday

relationships usually, so why claim that such emotions were any different in any other

circumstance?), and so, she would not receive the proper therapy she needed. She would merely

receive failures telling her over and over again that he was evil. Crane managed a smirk. He may be

evil, but that girl received the therapy she had needed for years under him. How the confident

woman underneath which he had uncovered would disappear back under the child he had met

when she was first kidnapped. Kidnapped.

"Forgive me Sparrow." He whispered, "I tortured you, I subjected you to such pain like you

were just another test subject. You're not. You're not like all the rest, you never were. Your mind

was the strongest I ever encountered. I pumped you with enough toxins to reduce you to a gibbering

vegetable, but you remained bright eyed and sharp tongued. You knew what I was like, but for all my

best efforts to make you respect me out of fear, you were defiant, you were sarcastic, you did not

fear me. But when we talked, when you told me things people never heard past your lips

beforehand, you were sincere, you were listened...you respected me."

"March." Tech called, "I have never heard you speak of a hostage like that before! What happened to you?" Crane smiled.

"Psyche in my mind. Psyche in mind." He muttered. Tech shuddered.

"You fell in love with her didn't you?" He whispered. Crane smiled sadly.

"I couldn't tell Hat, I have never been loved to know what it is." Tech wished he

could walk up to Crane and comfort his friend, but damn this hated prison to hell.

"If she spent a year with you and survived the Scarecrow, she must be special." Tech

mention soothingly. Crane looked up panicked.

"That's the thing Jervis, she shouldn't be anything special. If you go out onto any middle

class street in England, you will find a hundred Catherine Adams's. There is no reason in the world

why she should be anything spectacular, but my god, behind her Sparrow demeanour, there is a

goddess of such fierce loyalty, intensity and power, that she even scared Crane sometimes."

Tech stepped back. Crane was usually so deadpan, so proper. Even when he returned to

Arkham after being convicted by that snake Miss Albright, Crane had remained silent as to his

intentions towards the young redhead. It was only much later after he had been captured after his

confrontation with Becky on the rooftop, that he had admitted (only to Jervis, and under duress)

that he had fallen in love with her. But now, now there was a fire surrounding Crane from the

memory of the year he had spent with this Miss Adams , Tech feared that he would be burnt.

Suddenly, Crane blushed furiously.

"Forgive me." He whispered. "Forget what I have just said. It was not appropriate."

"Oh for God's sake March!" Tech exclaimed, exasperated. Crane looked up sharply.

"Sorry, for goodness sake." He corrected, remembering Crane's contempt for religion. Noting the

fear that suddenly formed in his friend's voice. He smiled sadly.

"Do not apologise old friend. You just reminded me briefly of Catherine. Every word that

came out of her mouth, if it wasn't an expletive, or sarcastic, it was blasphemous. I must say, I

stopped being an annoyance and actually became quite endearing in the end." He smiled

reminiscently, remembering his time spent with the old subject. Tech smiled back.

"Don't you see March? It wasn't inappropriate what you just said. I've never seen you more

expressive. And what is this about her not being special? She clearly is special to you, and for that

reason, she clearly is extraordinary." Crane looked at him sadly.

"And if I knew my time with her was to end yesterday, I wish things were different." The

Storybook rapist stared at his friend.

"How so March?" He asked. Crane stayed silent. A painful truth he kept hidden, even from

Tech was that he had never kissed a woman. Ever since Sherry Squires, he had never kissed a girl. In

his madness however, it was clear that whilst he was out of his head with insanity, he had kissed her.

He had kissed her and he could not remember it properly, apart from the bare details. He didn't tell

Tech that if he could, he would have kissed her whilst he was in his right mind. He would have

savoured her, worshiped her. He would never tell his friend this however. The only thing that came

out of his mouth in that moment was:

"It doesn't matter now. Tomorrow she'll be back in England and she'll be out of my life

forever."

**Promise that next chapter will be the big one. Right now however, thoughts? Good, bad? Hope I didn't make Crane too OOC, this is a romance, so I need to try and imagine what he really thinks when he's in love lol. I'll start on chapter 16: Psyche tomorrow. Hope you liked my intro of a Nolanized Mad Hatter, expect to see him more often later**

**Artemis out**

**PS: I've had a few comments about how my story layout appears. The whole half page thing is not my intention, believe me. It just does that whenever I upload my story from my memory stick. If anyone has any suggestions on how to fix it, email me, it annoys me when all my paragraphs disappear whenever I upload.**

**xxxxx**


	16. Not Justice Just You

**Chapter 16: No Justice, Just You**

_!BREAKING NEWS!_

"_Welcome to this emergency broadcast. This just in, There has been a car explosion in the western _

_prefecture of the Narrows, just ten miles from Gotham General Hospital. Reports are coming in that _

_there have been 2 fatalities. Detective Constable Carmella Baptiste (35) and the recently liberated _

_former hostage of the infamous Jonathan Crane, Catherine Marie Adams (22). Baptiste and Adams _

_were travelling from Gotham General Hospital (where Miss Adams has being recovering since she _

_was freed from captivity by Commissioner James Gordon and his crack squad of police), to the home _

_of Bruce Wayne, owner of Wayne Industries, who had earlier, offered his home as a place of reunion _

_for Miss Adams and her family, who she had not seen for a year. Details are only just coming in, but _

_dental records confirm that the driver of the car was indeed the decorated policewoman Baptiste. _

_However, the body of Miss Adams was too beaten to be identified by the same way. Clothes and _

_A gold ring worn by the victim correspond to that that Catherine Adams was wearing that day. This _

_incident is being treated as suspicious and reports are coming in that this was an inside job by the _

_Scarecrow (currently held at Arkham Asylum for the criminally insane) and his associates in revenge _

_for Catherine Adams's release only yesterday evening. The Adams family have been informed and are _

_currently at Wayne Manor where they were meant to be reunited with their youngest daughter. _

_Instead, they are being consoled in their grief. This reporter can now confirm, the second body has _

_now been officially identified as Catherine Marie Adams. _

_**10 HOURS EARLIER**_

Cat stood in the shower limply. She stared at the tiles on the wall blankly as she let the water fall on her. She had been in there for half an hour now, but she didn't care, she was more interested in her conversation with Batman, who had left three quarters of an hour ago.

Her mind raced. Batman, the almighty and all righteous Dark Knight, protector of Gotham...was an idiot! Cat closed her eyes and saw each of the pictures which Batman had shown her. Crane's grandmother stuck in her head the most. So Crane had strangled that bitch with his own hands? Cat let herself smile, how dare Batman judge Hannibal because of that!

"Somehow I doubt he knows everything about Hannibal." She thought to herself, "I wouldn't say killing that cow was evil, I'd call that retribution...like Eddie."

Eddie. Cat closed her eyes remembering that god forsaken night. She shook slightly, suddenly becoming incredibly conscious of the fact that she was naked.

"Don't be stupid Cat! You're safe! You're in the shower at the hospital, he can't hurt you! He can't hurt you." She panted, chastising her own stupid fear. A scene popped up in her head, she was back in Crane's hideout taking a shower. Crane always personally escorted her to the bathroom. Cat had no idea how many times a week she showered, though she reminded herself that she had no real handle on time during her captivity, so only Crane knew if it was every other day or not. No, that wasn't important. What Cat's mind focused on was one particular incident.

_Crane opened the door and let Cat pass into the dirty bathroom._

_ "Seriously Hannibal! Would it kill you to give this place a good spring clean once in a while?" She said exasperatedly. Like the rest of the house, the windows were bricked up and the floorboards were bare. A sink covered in grime and a toilet Cat didn't even want to look at were the only other features of the room apart from a grubby shower in the corner. Behind her, Crane stifled a smile before she turned round, holding up her handcuffs._

_ "Do you want a shower today Sparrow? Because keep up the wisecracks and I might just decide to send you back to your cell without." He snapped. Cat sighed._

_ "Ok, ok, Jaysus! I'm just pointing out the obvious. I mean come on, I'm meant to be your captive here, just make me clean the place or something." _

_ Crane unlocked her cuffs, looking at her curiously. "You're actually volunteering for more punishment? And they say I'm the insane one." Cat stuck her tongue out._

_ "You'd think that, I'd just do a very half assed job of it. You should have seen my room at uni, bombsite didn't even cover it. Plus I'd end up doing this thing I do where I just ask you how to do _

_every little thing till you just get annoyed and do it for me, you'd just end up hating me for it." Crane raised his eyebrows, still trying not to smile._

_ "A very crude form of reverse psychology Sparrow? I am impressed, but I'd never make you clean the place yourself just because you're a woman..."_

_ "You're a new age man? Wow, you hit me but don't expect me to make you dinner? How modern of you." She snipped sarkily. Crane accidentally let his guard down and let his shoulder shake silently for a fraction of a second, before staring as hard as he could at Cat._

_ "No, I've just spent too much time around Pamela Isley enough not to give anyone a chance to go off on a rant on the roles of men and women. Joker did that, though rushing him to hospital because his balls somehow ended up back in his body when he said something to her was a night none of us will forget." Cat's eyes widened as Crane let himself smile._

_ "Oh yeah, we all ended up back at Arkham that night because we went into the hospital with him, but believe me, it was worth it."_

_ "That's er...very 10 things I hate about you?" Said Cat, not really knowing what to say. Crane stopped smiling. _

_ "You say that, try sitting in the bloody van with her and having to listen to her preach the entire works of Catherine Mackinnon at you all the way to Arkham. I needed shock therapy after that." He muttered, shuddering before remembering Cat was stood there. Throwing a towel at her, he growled "You have ten minutes, do not try and escape." Before slamming the door. _

_ Cat sighed, always the same warning: "Do not try and escape." She was pretty sure he had guards on the door so she couldn't get out that way, and the window was bricked up. Somehow, she doubted she'd ever escape via the shower. She shrugged and began to undress, she had no idea when she'd have another shower so, she decided to enjoy it."IIIIIIII, love to love you baby." She sang as she brushed shampoo with her fingers throughher hair. The cell was freezing at the best of times, the amazingly hot shower definitely did morethan just keep her clean._

_She opened her eyes, brushing the soap studs out of them. She jumped back a bit, she couldhave sworn that the door had been open a crack, she could have sworn she saw a glint of an eye watching her. The door was shut now, but she was still shaking when Crane banged on her door 5 minutes later._

_ "You have 3 minutes to change Catherine." He had called just as always, there was no need though, Cat had changed as soon as she could, too worried in case the door really had been opened. When he came through the door, she immediately jumped on his accusingly._

_ "What the hell Crane? You keep me under surveillance 24/7 but you still need to watch me in the shower?" She screamed, lunging at him with the full intention of hitting him in her shot an arm out, grabbing her around the neck, causing her to choke in shock. Looking into hiseyes desperately, she squeaked in fear to see the Scarecrow._

_ "Now, run by me again why you feel the need to attack us." He growled, ignoring Cat's gasps for breath, "Especially after Jon was so good to let you have a shower." Car choked._

_ "P...please." She croaked. Scarecrow carried her back to her room like this before finally dropping her on the hard floor. Coughing and massaging her neck, she looked up in terror at the fearsome madman towering over her._

_ "Start talking now or I knock your teeth out." Snarled Scarecrow menacingly. Cat began to whimper._

_ "P...please. I'm sorry. Please, please let me explain to Crane." She begged. Scarecrow raised his fist, about to say "You'll talk to me." However, he stopped, arm mid way. A flash of colour in his eyes told a very relieved Cat that Crane had acquiesced to her request (Thankfully)_

"_So?" Crane enquired medically, looking down at Cat over his glasses. Cat exhaled, thankful that Crane, as insane as he was, was back. He was at least reasonable and listened to her when she _

_had a complaint._

_ "I'm sorry Hannibal." She apologised, "I...I thought I saw you looking at me through the door and I just panicked...sorry." Crane looked down at Cat with an eyebrow raised._

_ "Catherine." He said slowly and annoyed, with an air of explaining something to a difficult child, "No one was looking in whilst you were having a shower. I most certainly wasn't, I don't get my _

_kicks that way. Or do you think I do?" He asked menacingly. Cat squeaked in fear, unsure of what to say. Luckily for her, Crane didn't stop for an answer._

_ "Eddie." He called from her door, "Did you see anybody look in whilst the subject was taking a shower?"_

_ "No boss." Came Eddie's voice from the hallway. He turned back to her._

_ "Patients in stressful situations" He lectured, "often experience episodes of paranoid hallucinations. That, and I have been pumping your room full of fear gas, so I wouldn't be surprised if you imagine seeing things which aren't there if I was you."_

So she wasn't crazy, she really had seen someone watching her in the shower that day, Eddie had been watching her and Crane hadn't listened to her! Cat curled her hands into fists, so Crane was a twat like all the rest of the male population. Cat held her breath, Crane was right. There was no justice, there was no right or wrong, there was just you, yourself and I. Cat put her head to the wall.

"And you said I could trust you Crane! You didn't believe me and look what happened!" She whispered, banging a fist into the tiled wall.

"Idiot idiot IDIOT!" She screamed, hitting the harder on the wall. "YOU THINK YOU'RE SO FUCKING SMART!"

"MISS ADAMS!" Yelled a voice on the other side of the door, "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" Cat stopped, panting heavily. Her knuckles were stripped of their skin and were covered in blood. Realising where she was, she was about to call back that she was alright, but the door burst open.

Simon Garnett, the hospital's newest porter, was only passing the shower room when he heard the newest and most famous patient screaming in the shower. Hearing her banging, he became terrified. It wasn't uncommon for the most dangerous criminals in Gotham to track down their victims and finish them off, so when he heard her screaming, he did what came naturally and burst the doors open.

Cat looked up from her knuckles. At first, she confusingly thought that Crane had come bursting through the door, as he did when she used to run out of time with the shower. When she realised it wasn't Crane but a strange man, her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" She screamed, ripping out a blood curdling, paint stripping howl from her throat. A man was here in her room, a room he shouldn't be, in a room he shouldn't be when she was naked. She pressed herself up against the wall and continued screaming in terror.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" She bellowed, sinking to the floor in sheer terror. Simon stood there, staring at the naked woman with some unintentional fascination.

"What the hell Simon?" Screamed Nurse Jackie, elbowing the stunned porter out of the way and running into the shower room with a hypodermic needle of sedative. Cat saw the nurse coming towards her and arched her back, bringing her leg up in a snap kick into the nurse's chin.

"OWWWW!" Jackie screamed, fall backwards. "Simon! Get security!"

Cat got up and ran for the door, forgetting her nakedness or the glistening water that clung to her body, all she could think was that she needed to get away from anyone and everyone. Running out of the door, she didn't care where she went, she just wanted to be free. Suddenly, she was knocked to the ground by a side attack.

Gary Stine, a security guard of the hospital, was used to seeing crazies. Usually, they extended to deranged elderly patients with Alzheimer's or sometimes, a schizophrenic patient. What he had never seen however, was a young woman such as this, naked and running out of the shower like a crazed animal. Rugby tackling her to the ground, he called for the rising nurse to inject her. Jackie thrust the needle into Cat's forearm roughly.

"Ack!" She choked in surprise, before slipping into darkness. Gary gently stroked her hair as she slipped into unconsciousness, making soothing sounds. Looking up at Simon, both he and Jackie growled at Simon.

"Next time Simon." Snapped Jackie, throwing a towel over Cat to try and preserve her modesty, "When we have a patient who has been abused by a madman for a year, do not burst in on her when she's naked."

Cat's eyes fluttered open. She looked up to see that she was strapped to a bed but (thankfully), dressed in pyjamas.

"What the hell happened?" She croaked. "HELP ME!" She yelled, trying to wriggle out of her restraints.

"Ah, you're awake I see." Came a voice from the door. Cat looked up at Nurse Jackie.

"What happened?" She squeaked from her bed. Jackie raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you kicked me in the jaw and then ran out of the shower naked. We had to subdue you for your own protection...and...well, modesty." Cat blushed furiously.

"I'm sorry...I just saw a guy watching me and...well, it gave me a flash of one day..."

"I understand Kate dear." Jackie smiled understandingly, "Don't worry, Simon won't do it again."

Cat sighed, the nurse didn't understand. That pitying look on her face, the sickly sympathetic look in her eyes. Cat could see, Jackie was linking her mental state to Crane again...not comprehending anybody else, just Crane.

"One question though Kate." Jackie continued, "According to Simon, you were screaming in the shower at somebody. Who were you talking to?"

Cat opened her mouth, but no noise came out. Just who was she talking to? The tall doctor with intense blue eyes and the deadpan expression when she told him things initially flashed up in her mind. But then she realised, Crane wasn't the one who built himself up in her mind. She was.

"I don't know." She whispered, "No one important I guess."

* * *

"Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."

Cat sat up in bed. It had been an hour since she had been let out of her restraints, after a fair amount of sweet talking. Now, she was sat up in bed watching a clutch of DVD's the nurses had given to her. She sighed, clicking the rewind button yet again, she re-watched her least favourite part, the end.

"Don't you think you've watched that enough?" An orderly in a white uniform asked, coming in. Cat sighed.

"You have no power over me." Sarah had said for the millionth time. Cat closed her eyes and felt her heart break for Jareth.

"You know what I never got?" She asked quietly, "Why did she leave him?" The orderly spluttered.

"Why do you think Miss Adams? Because he was evil and had kidnapped her brother."

"No." She said shortly, "He took the baby because she asked him to."

"Well" The orderly replied, faltering, "What about the cleaners? Or taking the hours off the clock?" Cat rolled her eyes.

"Look mate, from what I learnt over the past year, don't give anyone with power any lip and they won't punish you. To punish is how they think they gain the upper hand, if Sarah stopped insulting him then he wouldn't have done all the challenges." She paused, "Besides, none of the challenges would have hurt her. The Oubliette would have brought her out of the maze and as for the cleaners...well, he sent her in the right direction to get out the tunnel. I bet that wouldn't have hurt her, if the cleaners did get to her, I always thought it'd be like that snake at the beginning. It'd disappear as soon as it'd touch her." Saying that, she skipped a few scenes backwards to her favourite scene of all, the ballroom scene. Looking up at the orderly, she frowned.

"What's in the bag?" She asked. A few orderly's had being coming and going all day, none of them had black satchels with them. The orderly smiled.

"Ah, alright, you got me sweetheart." He said, pulling a Dictaphone, "Jack Ryder of the Gotham Press. I was hoping to get in a few words with you."

Cat stared at Ryder in disbelief, her jaw literally hitting the bed. "You're fucking kidding me right?"

"No Cat, the police have been really annoying and have announced that there'll be no press conference with you. You're going back to England tonight, call me an opportunist, but I think the people of Gotham who spent a year searching for you deserve to know the truth of what happened I that house. Come on, whaddya say?" He chirped, shoving the Dictaphone practically in her face. Cat batted it down, outraged.

"What the hell? Get that thing out of my face!" She snapped. Ryder lowered the Dictaphone annoyed.

"Awww come on Cat! I gotta eat too! Everyone who I've interviewed, they all said you were co operative and happy to help..."

"Who's _they_?" Cat nearly growled.

"Why, Will Vickers and Amy Rushton of course. They're your closest confidants, so they're the ones who fill us in on you and what you'd be doing if you'd be free right now. Tell me, how was it at the hands of the Scarecrow?"

Cat's eyes lit up with white hot rage. Will and Amy, the two biggest bullshitters she had everknown and they were getting international fame off her back. Cat balled her fists, Crane's wordswere whirling around her head like a flurry of angry wasps. How dare them. How fucking dare them!

"They say a lot?" She whispered. Not hearing Ryder's reply, she retreated into her own head. She was sat cross legged on her mattress in her cell now, looking up at Crane who was lounging (as much as you could lounge on a hard backed chair) back in his seat (he didn't put her in a straightjacket now at this point). She had just finished explaining the night she had walked out of the drama society for good.

_"And you didn't yell or cause a scene or anything?" He asked, eyebrows rose, "You come across to me as the type of girl who'd be quite willing to slap someone if they dared insult you." Cat smiled ruefully. "People say that, but what could I do? In a room full of the drama glitterati, I couldn't touch them. I just grabbed my coat and walked out the room. I never set foot in that damn theatre ever again."_

_ "And you just let them get away with it? Sparrow, your honour had been dragged through the mud through the most odious of lies, they had alienated you from everyone, yet you did not react?" Cat sighed and shook her head._

_ "No, and that little fact still rubs me up Hannibal. I wish I could say no regrets, but I always think, only when their smirking faces come into my mind, what would it be like if I'd just punched them?"_

_ "Probably no better if I'm honest Catherine." Shrugged Crane, "Like you said, you couldn't touch them, you'd have paid for your defiance tenfold." Cat let herself fall back onto the mattress depressed._

_ "Come on then Jon, you're the shrink. How do I get over this depressingly angsty moment in my life?" Crane pushed his glasses up on his nose._

_ "Most would say, move on. I would say, you shouldn't have hit them, you did the right, elegant and most mature thing you could do. What I would have done, is destroyed them. Wait for the right moment and deliever the killer blow. Never use physical violence, it's only temporary and associated with the lowest IQ of killers. I'm talking about destroying their lives."_

_ "I'll remember that Hannibal...If I ever get out and find them on the streets. This allhappened two years ago...at uni. If I ever saw them again, don't you think it'd be sad if I still had agrudge from uni don't you think?" Crane smiled at her._

_ "Funny thing about life Sparrow. We run into people from our past all the time. If you see them again, and they haven't changed, and they're still in the opinion that they're better than you, promise me that you'll be the vengeful greek goddess you really are, ok?"_

"And so basically, some guy calle Trevor McDonald has a live reunion lined up for you and those two lined up for when you get back to Britain." Ryder finished as Cat flashed back to reality. Her eyes widened in shock.

"There you go Sparrow, your moment." A voice in her head boomed. Cat jumped. At first, she thought it was Crane, but it wasn't, it was too feminine, yet strong and commanded respect. Itwas a voice she had not heard in so long. Psyche's. Cat inwardly nodded. She had been chased out of the drama society, but now it was time for the performance of her life.

Throwing her head forward, she willed tears to form. It wasn't hard, she cried. She cried for Jonathan's cruel childhood, she cried for the thought of Jonathan being all alone and stripped of his position of power (Cat felt no ill will towards him. True, like he had said, he was like the rest of the population, he was probably doing it because she was there. In contrast to the rest of the populationhowever, Crane's treatment had made her stronger). Most of all though, she cried for the fact that she would never see him again. On the TV, Jareth and Sarah were spinning in the ballroom whilst he sang to her. Even though she felt mental for thinking it, Cat cried because she wished she was there with him instead of being hassled by the annoying reporter.

"Watch me Hannibal." She thought, the same powerful voice booming instead of her own voice, "Watch me give the performance of my life."

"Cat!" Ryder yelped, diving forward to put an arm around her (she jumped a little, but bit her tongue lightly and told herself to get a grip), "What's wrong? What's the matter? Is it Crane?"

_Showtime._

"I...it's not th..that!" She sobbed, letting her voice become as hysterical as she could, "It's just...just after what I went through with Will, I didn't expect it to happen again!" Ryder's eyes widened in hunger for an exclusive.

"What? What happened with Will?" He asked elatedly. Cat raised her head slightly, so only her eyes could be seen, full of tears and full of pain.

"He...he and Amy..." She whispered, "So awful! She text me saying she wanted to meet me in the theatre...I get there an..and it's empty, but then Will steps out of the wings...an..and." Despite her revulsion, she threw her arms around him and buried her face in her shoulder (if only so that he didn't see her smile), "Next thing I know, he hits me around the head and I'm on the floor...he was on top of me...OH MY GOD!" Ryder drew her away from him, looking estatci at this exclusive.

"You're saying Will Vickers raped you? In the University theatre?" Cat nodded.

"Yes, and Amy Rushton filmed the entire thing." She screamed. _Now to seal your fate you cockroach. _She thought, remembering when Crane had told her about the Joker briefly when he had began trusting her.

_"There are more of you?" She exclaimed. Once upon a time, someone had told her about the Joker. The face had faded but the words had remained. Crane smiled, amused at her naivety._

_ "Of course there's more of us Sparrow. Hell, more than me and the Joker at any rate. I can imagine we'd end up murdering each other if it was just him and me."_

_ "So what's he like? Really?" She asked, cocking her head to the side._

_ "Insane." He muttered. Cat raised her eyebrows._

_ "Hello pot. Have you met kettle?" She smiled from the straightjacket. Crane growled softly._

_ "Don't compare me to him, ever. I'm the master of fear, the lord of despair. I put thought into my schemes. To me, my feats are like poetry. The Joker? He's one up from a common thug."_

_ "So why did I know about him before I knew about you?" She teased. Crane looked practically thunderous._

_"I blame his hoards of stupid fangirls." He snapped, "Papers quickly latched onto the fact that their circulation went up whenever they put his stupid face on the cover. Don't even get me started on the bloody _

_fanfiction and youtube videos teenagers put up of him!"_

_ "Wow, jealous much?" Giggled Cat. Crane flushed._

_ "You know, the guy's that vain he actually reads every newspaper article of himself. If he doesn't like it, he tracks down the reporter and...well, have you ever heard the one of how to make a pencil disappear?"_

Oh yes, she knew how to deal with this leech.

"You know, Crane actually flashed that news report with Amy and Will, a day later, well, he brought the Joker round to my cell...it was exactly like Will, it may have been small, but...but." She allowed herself to descend into sheer sobs of anguish whilst the reporter, thrilled at himself, patted her on the shoulder insincerely.

"Cat, rest assured, I will not sleep, until William Vickers and Amy Rushton are brought to trial for...for their disgusting crime against you."

_Success._ She allowed herself to smile. _Are you proud of me Hannibal? _

"I get scared." She whispered from her hands, "Scared that Crane will come and get me. That he'll burst through those doors with...with the Joker. He'll come and...and."

"You needn't worry about that!" Ryder said comfortingly, "He's locked up in Arkham. He'll never touch you again." Cat lowered her hands and put her head to the side.

"Arkham? What's that?" She asked, putting on the most childish and naive voice that she could manage (and hating herself all the way for it).

"A mental asylum where we put the crazies of this town.."

"Bu...bu..but can't he escape and come get me?" She squeaked, faking the terror in her voice (She had to stifle a smile, fear reminded her irresistibly of Crane and his excited smile). Ryder's shoulder's jumped up. He was enjoying his imagined role of the great chivalrous hero.

"He couldn't reach you here Cat!" He assured, "Arkham's all the way over there. Look." He pulled her off the bed and pulled her to the window and gestured over to a mansion in the distance, visible only through a small chink through the skyscrapers. Typical horror film setting. That was all that sprung to Cat's'mind "_I feel like there should be bats flying around those turrets." _She thought. Looking across, she estimated that the building was about three hours away from the hospital by foot.

"So that's Arkham Asylum is it?" Cat said, dropping her frightened tone and reverting back to her dead monotone. Ryder didn't notice. He was too excited over his potentially career breaking exclusive.

"The only mental facility of its kind." He replied, "Takes only the most dangerous criminals and tries to turn them into fully rehabilitated members of socie..."

"What the hell?" Screeched Nurse Jackie, bursting through the door, "What the hell is going on here? Jack Ryder? What are you doing in here? Get away from the patient!"

* * *

Cat sat by the window, gazing out at the mansion on the horizon. It had been an hour since Ryder had being evicted from the building. Cat had stood at the window waving at him with a childish smile. Everyone in that hospital would say that what happened afterwards was a blessing to "The poor lamb." Cat however, was stood at the window, saying goodbye to the bastard.

"If there's any justice in the world, you'll get yours. And I'll never see you again." She chuckled.

"No." The strong voice in her head boomed again, "Not justice. You."

Now, an hour later, Cat was sat at her window, staring at the mansion in the gap. So this is what Crane had been reduced to. Cat gazed at it. It was as if he was now the house, as if he could see her looking out of the window at him. It was so like Crane, it looked antique, as if it was regal and special at one point, but the walls around it were high, covered in barbed wire.

"Hannibal." She called softly, "Hannibal, can you hear me? I need to talk to you." She strained her eyes to get a closer look (unsuccessfully) at the prison. She felt a tear run down her face.

"Hannibal, I know you don't give a damn about human life, but I think I've just sent a man to his death. Ok, alright. I've killed already, but he's going off, probably to face a death worst than anything I ever served up. That, and I think I got the revenge I've wanted for so long. Is it alright to smile when you destroy two lives? I think now that even a desk job will be beyond what they can hope for...was it alright to say that? You're the only one who'd probably agree with me there. Everybody else'll probably condemn me when they find out...damn, what if they find out I'm still a virgin? Hmmm, somehow I think my life's going to get more complicated when I get back home..."

Suddenly, Cat's fist banged on the glass pane. White hot rage boiled behind eyes. "NO! No. Why did I do that? I've done that and I'm going to have to face the music when I get back...for what? I did it because you're in my fucking head! I did that because I thought my kidnapper would like it...How fucked up is that? What have you done to me Crane? All that I did just then...I did it for you. Didn't I?" Cat put her head to the glass. True, she had imagined Crane's approving smile when she had destroyed Will and Amy's lives. Now however, the shine had worn off within the hour when she realised that she couldn't share her victory with anybody. Now, all she could think was how she'd be judged by society for crying wolf. She put her face to the glass and whirled her grandmother's eternity ring on her finger

"I can't blame you for it I guess Crane, I did what I wanted at the time. I hate you though, not for kidnapping me. You know what I hate you for? I hate you for showing me a world I wasn't a victim. I killed a man who tried to rape me and I'll remember that...that satisfaction till the day I die. It's not possible though is it? In the real world, you look, don't touch. Touch, don't taste...taste but don't swallow." She banged her head lightly on the glass, Crane's words buzzing in her head.

"_Society's so tied down by rules and regulations Sparrow. Is it right for those at the bottom to be crushed by the few at the top? I say, take what you can and leave nothing for the rest."_

"I'm going back to concrete suburbia Crane, where a guy can't defend his house against a robber without being done for assault. I go back to rules and regulation and I must leave you behind! I hate you. I hate you."

In that moment, she realised something. "I can't hate you. Before I met you, I was attacked by a student. I was so scared, anybody could walk all over me. Hell, my family's being doing that since I was little. Now though, I'd be more tempted to stand up for myself...but I can't can I?" She sighed, feeling her tears just fall.

"You can't stand up like you do in real life Hannibal! If someone disrespects you, you bring them to their knees. At home, I'm going to be a teacher. A profession where kids have the power and they know it." Looking up at a plane flying in the afternoon sky, she began gently singing.

"Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars? I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now." She sighed as the plane disappeared into the clouds. "Lucky bastard." She muttered. She wished that she could just disappear into the clouds, flying out of the hospital and to sheer, unadulterated freedom...Cat groaned. When she flew to Thailand, she had spent the entire flight clutching her arm rests, convinced that the plane would lose power and crash. On top of this, she knew that she couldn't fly away, where would she go?

"This would probably work out better if there were actual stars in the sky." She muttered, she always loved star gazing, it had always given her a sense of perspective back in England. Was it so bad that right now, the only thing she could think of what she'd missed about England was her back garden where she could see them?

"Miss Adams!" A voice came from the doorway. Cat looked away from the window at Jackie, who was holding a clothes bag from a dry cleaners and a pair of straighteners.

"I cannot believe that you're still in your pyjamas and it's two o'clock! Here, Mr. Wayne has sent you some rather pretty clothes, and I can straighten your hair. What do you say?" Cat felt her mouth twist, full of venom.

"I'm twenty two years old." She whispered poisonously, "You don't need to treat me like a fucking child alright?" Jackie's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Miss Adams!" She exclaimed in horror, "Please try and keep a civil tone! Just because you've had it rough, it is no excuse to be downright rude!" Cat's mouth fell open. She had been away from society for over a year, but did people seriously think that they could be patronising as hell and not expect someone to snap back.

"take the straighteners will you? I don't need them." Cat muttered, returning to watching the small building in the distance. Jackie snorted derisively.

"You're joking aren't you? Your hair's like a bird's nest! You may have gotten used to looking like a state with that washed up, messed up freak, but now's the time to at least try and look normal."

* * *

"Ready to go Cat?" The female policewoman asked. Cat looked up from the picture of Frida and regarded the new woman.

"Is it time?" She asked, quite surprised. She had relented and used the strengtheners. Seeing her with tamed hair and in respectable clothes had made her feel weird. Crane had always taken pride in his appearance, but it was in his own way. Cat had never known him out of a suit, never in jeans or anything casual, but he was comfortable in them. He had always said the same to Cat, _"Are you comfortable Catherine?"_ He hadn't cared if her hair was straight, never judged her (unlike the girls at school before Cat had spent a fortune on the most expensive straighteners she could so that she could to fit in with everyone else.

"_You don't think I look stupid?" She'd asked. Crane raised an eyebrow._

_ "Why would I think that Sparrow? Because your hairs not like everybody else's? Catherine, don't you realise that fashion goes through phases? My god, you weren't around in the eighties! Everyone had hair curlier than yours! You at least pull it off without looking like a poofy French Poodle."_

And now, for the first time in a long time, her hair was straight. Cat ran her fingers through it. She was almost ready to be integrated back into society now. At least she looked the part.


	17. Unusual You Conversations With My Nana

**Chapter 17: Unusual You/ Conversations With My Nana**

"I'm Carmella Baptiste, I'll be escorting you to Wayne Manor." The kind woman said. Cat put down her picture and smiled, shaking hands with the woman.

"Pleased to meet you." Cat said unenthusiastically. This new policewoman was pleasant enough.

"Right, I'm afraid that there's a bit of a media circus forming around the hospital, so Commissioner Gordon has decided that you should be transported by one cop in an unmarked car, and your doctors have suggested that you be transported by a woman." Cat sighed. Great, there's the sympathetic look.

"Are you ready?" Carmella asked. Cat picked up her picture of Frida and stood up, tucking her picture under her top and ignoring the scandalised look of the now hated nurse.

"What? I've done this for a year now, I'm hardly going to stop doing it now for you." She snapped.

"This way you two." Gary urged, leading them through the hospital and out the back to an unmarked red Clio.

"It's not glamorous I know." Carmella said apologetically, " But it'll stop us being chased by a horde of paps until we get to Wayne Manor." Cat smiled.

"That's no problem." Assured Cat. A horrible sinking feeling began to form in her chest. Whilst she was glad that only her and Baptiste would be making the journey, she couldn't ignore the fact that she was now leaving Gotham...for good.

"You're quiet." Carmella commented. Cat sighed and carried on looking out the window at the urban jungle that she was driving past. When she had walked through it in the day, so long ago, she had imagined herself to be living in a Friends episode, feeling so glamourous. Now, as she looked out on the streets of Gotham, all she noticed was the poverty. Vagrants lined the streets, huddled around bin fires for warmth. Rich folk walked by these poor souls, clothed in fine furs and turning up their noses at them round the fires.

"Reaching out for human faith is like a journey I just don't have a map for." She sang softly. Turning back to Carmella, she asked.

"Why is Gotham the way it is?" Baptiste smiled sympathetically.

"It's sick. That's why. Gotham never got over the depression, as a result of the poverty which ensued, jerks like that Crane." Cat's eyes lit up.

"Oh we don't need that!" She exclaimed. Carmella smiled that false smile.

"Don't worry, I was held hostage by him once. Bank job, held for ten straight hours. Mind you, I think you had it as bad as you. I mean, a year with him. And I'm in my thirties now, I'm slightly past it when it comes to guys...but you."

"What about me?" Cat asked, wondering whether to be mad or not. Carmella continued to smile.

"Well, a twenty two year old with a thirty four year old man? Come on sweetie, you're pretty enough. Don't worry, people will help you after you get back to England. "

"What do you mean?" Asked Cat sharply. Her fists curled up, ready to defend Crane's honour.

"Oh nothing sweetheart." Baptiste soothed gently like that of a child. Suddenly, the radio crackled.

"Baptiste. Come in Baptise."

"Baptiste here chief." She answered, not noticing the murderous look in Cat's eyes, who turned away from the policewoman and returned to looking out of the window at the moon.

"Baptiste! Just warning you, get off the main roads! The press have gotten hold of the fact that you and Adams are on the way to the Wayne Manor. Her family are two hours away from the airport, I suggest you take the back streets. It'll take you longer but you'll avoid the filth. Over."

"Copied Chief. Over and out." Baptiste said putting the radio back on the cradle. Looking over to Cat, she smiled, "Time for a bit of sight-seeing off the beaten track before you go back to England huh?" Cat smiled polietley in return as the car turned off into a side street.

"You're wrong you know." Cat whispered to Baptiste.

"Say what?" Baptiste asked absent-mindedly. Cat smiled knowingly.

"You're wrong you know." She repeated, " the depression didn't cause jerks like Crane to appear. Humans created people like Crane, the depression, it's just an excuse people use when those with the power to break from society, bug those who conform. Don't you see the people on the street? What do they do to help? Nothing. They;re caught in their own blissful false bubble of materialism. They don't see do they? How pointless it all is!"

"Miss Adams!"Exclaimed Carmella, shocked. "Don't ever think like that! There is nothing glorious or avante guard in what Crane and the rest of that filth do, they're just scum..."

"I never said that they were glorious did I?" Cat snapped back, "I just said that they break away from...from that." She said, waving her hand to where the vagrants were behind the building. Baptiste gave Cat a horrified look and spluttered, trying to think of something to say to the traumatised young woman. Cat glanced at her sideways, smiling.

"Ignore me of course." She assured, "Don't pay attention to me. I'm traumatised right?" Carmella gave her a doubtful look.

"I suppose. Don't worry, you'll never be one of them. You don't fit the profile..."

"Profile?" She whispered, she had never thought that there were specific requirements to be a criminal in Gotham. Baptiste smiled.

"I studied criminology. Trust me, all the psychos of Gotham all fit the same profile you know? Abusive childhood, all that cheesy stuff. You however..."

"Loving family, good education and good Christian upbringing?" Cat finished. Baptiste nodded.

Time passed. Cat didn't say anything else, and neither did Baptiste, who was becoming more and more uncomfortable with Cat in the car, but was painfully aware that Wayne manor was still an hour away, so decided to fill the uncomfortable silence.

"How about some music huh?" She said, cheerily, fiddling with the cd player. Cat smiled to herself. In a year, she had not heard a Britney Spears song, but had sung them often. Now, she smiled and sang along to a song she would always say made her realise exactly what she wanted and would so, associate with Crane for the rest of her life.

_Nothing about you is typical_

_Nothing about you is predictable,_

_You got me all,_

_Twisted and confused,_

_It's all new._

_Up till now,_

_I thought I knew love,_

_Nothing to lose,_

_And it's damaged caused,_

_Patterns will fall, as quick as I do, but now, bridges are burning,_

_Baby I'm learning_

_A new way of thinking now,_

_Love I can see,_

_Nothing will be_

_Just like it was_

_Is that because?_

_Baby you're so unusual_

_Didn't anyone tell you you're supposed to_

_Break my heart, I expect you to_

_So why haven't you?_

_Maybe you're not even human cause_

_Only an angel could be so unusual_

_Sweet surprise I could get used to_

_Unusual you_

Yes, in that moment in time, it all changed for Cat. Twisting her grandmother's eternity ring around her middle finger, she talked to her beloved, long dead nana in her head for the first time since she was 16.

"Nana?" She prayed inwardly, "Nana, I need to talk to."

"Kitty." Her Nana's voice rung in her head. Cat wasn't fooled, she knew that she was just talking to herself, but her nana had always been the voice of reason in her head.

"Kitty dear, what's wrong?" Cat looked into her Nana's kind, hazel eyes and (in her mind), collapsed on her shoulder in tears.

"I need your help nana! But first, I need to ask you, please can you tell me the story of when you and Grandad met?" Cat had never met her Grandfather, he had died long before she was born, but her favourite bedtime story when she was little was how they had met.

"Kitty my angel! You've heard that story way too many times. Why now?"

"Please Nana."

Sighing, her nana smiled and stroked her youngest granddaughter's hair fondly.

"Very well. Well, as you know, I was the youngest daughter like you, but unlike you, I had two elder brothers who were very protective and never used to let any boy talk to me. When I was sixteen, just as the war broke out, I went out to the cinema with my friends and met my beloved George, worked at the cinema you see. He asked me out for a drink afterwards. We just talked the entire time. After that, I had to see him again."

"And did your parents approve?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

"Of course they didn't! No one was good enough for them. Of course, they would have preferred me to stay at home and look after my family, but I realised I wanted something they couldn't be part of. I loved my family, but I needed to be happy. I left that house one night, was married in a church and moved in with his parents. Was my mother upset? Yes. I didn't talk to my brothers for five years, but I was happy."

"Would you repeat it Nana?" Cat asked breathily, "was it worth it?" Nana nodded.

"I experienced such poverty early on in my marriage, whilst George was an apprentice, and yes, it only lasted ten years before my poor husband died. We didn't know smoking was as bad as it was and he always had a weak chest. But you know something? They were the happiest days of my life because I was in love! I was in love and I'd met my soul mate who understood me. Who could ask for more?" Cat nodded.

"Angel, is this about that Crane?" Her Nana's voice whispered. Cat inwardly nodded.

"You gave up everything for Grandad. Even your family." She cried into her shoulder.

"I still loved them, but I was my own person Kitty." Nana assured her.

"Oh Nana! I'm in trouble! I mean, yes, I'm glad I'm not a prisoner anymore, but look at the world! Crane's right. The world's full of chaos, it's all pointless. Waking up, going to work, eating chips and getting drunk before going to bed and starting all over again...what's the point of it anymore?" Nana held her granddaughter.

"You know the funny thing about life Kitty? It can be so full of wonder and magic, but people still invented boredom. They're bored with the life they create, but as long as they have a Volvo and a mortgage, they're happy. You'd never be happy with that my darling."

"But Nana! I'm so confused! Crane made more sense than anybody in this world, but is it normal to to..."

"Love your kidnapper?" Cat did a double take.

"NANA!"

"Oh don't lie to me Catherine! I saw you in those 'sessions,' I've never seen you more talkative! In seminars you always kept your mouth shut, but with him, I've never seen you more ready to argue about facts! The way you flirt with him...he's not normal, true. But you've never gone for normal have you? Claire and Jamie brought people home. You never did, you were waiting for that one spectacular person who was out of this world. Someone who could keep up with you...someone who understood you. I saw what you saw. The man has built up walls, but he's not irreproachable. Look what he did for you, he killed the man who dared threaten you. For that, for protecting my Kitty, I'll be eternally grateful."

"What are you talking about Nana?" Cat whispered, wondering where the voice in her head was taking her.

"You're right Catherine, the world is meaningless at the best of time. I realised it when I met your grandfather, but I changed it. You're not the same girl as when you were kidnapped, I can see it now. My dreamy little Kitty Cat is gone now, I see an intense young woman before me. I see a confident young woman with her eyes focused..."

"But what about Dad? And Mum? I can't..."

"Catherine, I love my son, but he takes after his grandfather too much. If I was still alive, I wouldn't have sheltered you like my son did with you. Now, are you going to keep lying to me, or are you going to stop being shy and a child and admit what I already know?"

"Nana..."

"Are you?"

"Well..."

"Alright Nana, I love him."

"That all?"

"I love him but I can't be with him." Cat cried, clinging to reason.

"Then you don't love him enough." Her Grandmother's voice screamed out cruelly. Cat recoiled at the poison.

"Tell me what to do Nana!" Cat practically screamed in her head. Her Nana began to transform. Cat's eyes widened, seeing her Nana transform into herself.

"Go to him." The mirror image said softly. "If you really do love him, go to him."

"I do." Cat sobbed.

"You do what?" The mirror image yelled.

"I LOVE HIM!" Cat screamed for real, at the top of her lungs. If Baptiste could have she'd have stopped the car, jumped out and ran for the hills. Unfortunately for the policewoman, she was too slow. She was too slow to see Cat turn to her with a murderous look in her eye, too slow to see Cat unclip her seatbelt and too slow to see Cat ram her body straight into Baptiste's body, causing the car to swerve straight into the wall.

Cat's body exploded in pain, if she hadn't clung to the cop's body, she probably would have broken every bone in her body. Lucky for her, as she opened her eyes cautiously to see that she had escaped with only a few cuts.

"Jesus Christ! What the hell is going through your head?" She squeaked, feeling herself shake. Baptiste moaned weakly in Cat's clutches.

"P..please." She squeaked. Cat unfurled herself and looked down. Baptiste, covered in blood moaned weakly. "Please help me." Cat breathed out and slowly reached for the cop.

"I'll help you." She cooed soothingly, smiling at the injured woman. Just before she reached her seatbelt however, she dropped it to the gun holster. Pulling the gun out, she aimed it at Baptiste's head, "I know it's hard to believe, but you have no idea how sorry I am right now." She soothed, firing the gun directly into Carmella's head. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she saw her reflection. She stared at herself as if seeing her reflection for the first time. She was covered in cuts, her skin would never be like perfect alabaster, but her nana was right, she had changed. Her cheeks had hollowed out now, giving her a womanly look. Her hair had grown longer than it had ever been and was now back to its natural bushiness. She'd never be a beauty to rival those at the drama society, but she had definitely changed from the girl who had practically skipped down the deprived street on her first day. There was a look on her face she had never seen before in her life.

Pulling herself out of the car, sharply breathing out in pain, Cat calmly observed the damage in the narrow street.

"Well this is going to take some explaining." She sighed. "I cannot pass this off as trauma."

"You could hang around." A voice in her head giggled, "Hell, you've killed enough now to be classified as insane. You'll be hauled off to Arkham in an instant! Result: You're reunited with Hannibal!"

"NO!" She screamed out. "No." She reverted back into her head, "I'm not putting my parents through that. Better they think I'm dead than to think I'm doing this!" Clutching the gun to her chest, she whispered. "Hang on Jonathan, I'm coming."


	18. Psyche

**Chapter 18: Psyche**

Cat ran around the corner, abandoning the wreckage in the alley. On the outside, anybody who saw her could have been forgiven for thinking she was just a young woman concentrating on finding her way home. Inwardly though, she was in turmoil.

"Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck." She was moaning under her breath. What the hell was she going to do now? Waltz into Arkham (which she vaguely recalled was in that direction over there, behind the high rises) and declare her love to the dangerous criminal...or actually finding him in a selection of dangerous criminals. Cat leaned against the wall and groaned.

"What was it Jamie always said to you Sparrow? Oh yeah, you're in way over your head." She groaned, banging her back head against the wall. Raising the gun to her eye line, she regarded it, sighing.

"Could end it now I suppose." She whispered, "Everyone seems keen to get me out of Gotham before Crane gets me...It'd be easy wouldn't it? Urgh! You fucking twat Cat! You put yourself in these situations. How do you get to Jonathan now?"

"Why the Hell did you do that Cat?" Her inner voice demanded. "You've just thrown your life away...for a psychopath! You can't go after Jonathan Crane! You can't! Cat shuddered. The voice was small, weak...normal.

"Why? Why can't I go to him?" She demanded angrily. Why did reason always have to kick in after she had done it?

"You're a fool! You can't love him, you heard Batman right? The man's incapable of love, the man raped a girl Cat! Did you hear what I did? Remember how it feels do you? And you want to shack up with a guy who's everything you fear!" Cat put her hands to her ears.

"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" Cat screamed. Why the hell was she arguing with herself? Furthermore, why was she losing?

"You go on about how Crane's the only one in this crazy world to get you, wake up Cat! This is a man who would kill you without a second thought." Cat cried out in anger.

"Crane had a year to kill me. What he did do instead? He kissed me before he was taken. Neither of us knew the police were coming! Call me crazy, but that's not the actions of a man who wants me dead." Cat spoke out loud, with the strong, booming voice.

"Why do you even like him? You've been bleating on nonstop about injustice and how hypocritical this world is, but it's no excuse. Why Crane? What's so special about him?" Cat sighed in annoyance.

"You know why. Don't tell me you never felt it too?"

"No, I didn't. Is it because of how he looks? Cat, please, Will was good looking, Harry was good looking. Look what happened with them."

"Enough!" She screamed at herself, clutching her ears tighter. "You're always so stupid! It was always about looks with you, wasn't it? You'd love it if I mentioned his icy blue orbs wouldn't you? Wouldn't I sound so girly if I did that? Or how about his smile? Am I on the right track? Oh wait, no, how about his thick black hair which 'ooh, just itches to be played with.' Is that it? Or could it be that the guy is the only one in the world that makes sense. In this world, there are those with and those without, it's a crappy status quo, the status is not quo! I mean, come on, if I was to poison...let's say Bak Kim Moon, no one would give a damn. Poison Paris Hilton though, and we'll be thrown into international mourning. That's not right. If people believe it is, well then, Crane's right. It's up to the few to take control of this bloody, self obsessed chaos. Don't you see? He's so unusual, he'll never come along again! He is power, and if I'm not in his presence for another day, I'd better throw myself off a building. You hear me? I'll be the one to end my life, not Crane. Haven't you learnt anything? Crane doesn't kill for shits and giggles, only when provoked."

"And the Scarecrow? He was always keen to kill you."

Cat faltered for a second.

"The Scarecrow is a part of Hannibal." She reasoned. "I don't know if that means that he'd want me dead, but he mentioned Becky Albright before remember? When...when I woke up with Jonathan." Cat closed her eyes and remembered the peace she had felt that morning, waking up in Hannibal's arms...and she'd thrown it all away in the name of reason. She let out a little sob, what she wouldn't give to have that experience with him again.

"He only attacked her after she said no. I mean, come on, we've both being around Scarecrow, we don't know exactly how she said no. It must have been bad for Scarecrow to attack her, I think Scarecrow's the part that protects Jon, from anybody and anything that insults or attacks him. If that's the case, I will love him just as much. He is a part of Hannibal after all. Hell, he loves him like me. I'll work with him to protect Jon...we just want the same thing.." She babbled, closing her eyes at how weak she was sounding. It didn't matter though. Giving the small, pathetic voice one last scowl in her head, she looked up from the gun.

Across the street, two women stood on the street corner. One had long, lank, brunette hair and was particularly skeletal. The other, slightly taller and had blonde, lank hair as opposed to brunette. she saw the blond woman climb into a waiting car. Cat wrinkled her nose in disgust. The woman looked a state, her lips were covered in ulcers and she looked like a walking skeleton...she was clearly a junkie working the streets to get her next fix. She looked away, feeling her conservative upbringing bubble in indignation.

"Suck it up." The powerful voice in her voice boomed out, "You're as good as them now. That's your seventh killing this year. What makes you better than that whore over there?"

Cat put her hands to her ears, trying to drone the voice out.

"Shut up! He's not like that...alright, ok, he isn't like everyone else. But I doubt he's into trafficking or anything like tha..."

"Sounds like you're having second thoughts about Saint Jonathan." Snickered the inner voice.

"Not really, if people are stupid enough to get into that situation, they deserve everything they get." She snarled aloud. Looking at the car driving off, "And believe me, I know Crane's hardly a saint." However, she smiled in realisation.

"Jonathan wouldn't get his hands dirty with this lot." She giggled, "But they would be useful."

"What?" That weak voice called. It would be the last time she would hear Cat Adams in her head ever again.

"If the world should be blown up tomorrow, the last audible voice would be that of an expert saying it can't be done." She smiled, "Now hush." Psyche's voice silenced the doubt, "I have a plan."

Tucking the gun behind her bra like the night she had killed strange, she stood up, looked both ways up and down the empty street before crossing, walking as seductively as she could to the remaining brunette. The woman scowled at the well dressed Cat walking towards her.

"What the fuck do you want bitch?" She demanded angrily. Cat put her head to one side cutely.

"Aww come on baby, am I really that bad?" She whined sweetly, "Do you say this to all those looking for a good time." The prostitute raised an eyebrow.

"Say what? You actually wan' a good time?" Cat smiled seductively.

"Sure, whaddya say?" She asked. The hooker looked at her, up and down.

"Errr...I don't know..."

"Oh, I see, not the type to service women are you?" She giggled. "Shame, I was going to pay big bucks for you. Dare think I'll be better than whoever gave you that." She said, looking at the black eye on the hooker's right. At the mention of money, the woman's eyes lit up.

"Really? Where would we go? How much would you pay me?" Cat brought a finger to the woman's split lip smiling (she forced herself into imagining that she was looking into Hannibal's ice blue eyes instead of the dull dead ones of the woman to conjure up the smile she needed).

"I have a car round the corner. I'll take you to the glitziest place in Gotham sweetheart." Cat said, backing away from the woman and gesturing with her finger, continuing her smile.

"Bonus." The whore cheered, following Cat like a trusting lamb to the slaughter. Cat hurried her pace, slipping behind the corner before the whore and backing away to give her enough room.

"So what kinda car you got lady?" The brunette asked in a thick accent, rounding the corner. Before she could react to the gun pointed at her, Cat fired her gun directly between her eyes. She put the gun down, an expression on her face resembling the deathly calm before a storm.

"I've probably done to you the kindest thing in the world." She said coldly. She walked up to the corpse and looked down, looking at the purple boob tube and a cheap black skirt with the fishnet tights. "Humans are so disgusting." She growled. First part of her plan, over. Now for the most unpleasant part.

"You're so lucky we're the same size." She muttered, pulling the piece of material away from the dead woman's body, "Otherwise, your death would be as pointless as your life."

Ten minutes later, Cat stood there, fully changed and hauling the dead prostitute (who was now in Cat's new clothes) towards the totalled police car. Throwing the body down, she regarded it furiously.

"I've just had a thought." She growled at the cadaver angrily, "You look nothing like me. Annoying fact, no one's going to believe I'm dead if I suddenly look like crap." Throwing her hands up and snarling at her own stupidity, Cat looked around, hoping the answer would present itself to her miraculously. Her eyes fell on a metal bar, left over by construction workers earlier that day and she smiled.

"If watching CSI has taught me anything." She grinned, picking it up and advancing to the dead woman, "It's that bodies are a lot harder to identify when the face is destroyed." She muttered, raising the bar above her head and bringing it down as hard as she could on the hooker's face. A satisfying _CRACK_ and a crimson gush of blood splattering across Cat's face followed. She carried on hitting the woman's face for five minutes, imagining the face of that patronising bitch of a nurse, the sleazy reporter and the collective faces of Will and Amy (how satisfying it was now to think they're lives would be ruined this time tomorrow). She looked down at her carnage. The hookers face was now utterly destroyed, resembling more or a bug half squashed into the pavement than a human being. Cat dropped the pole, breathing in sharply (partly in disgust of herself but mostly out of exhaustion).

"Time for you to serve your use." She growled at the body, pulling it to the car and settling it in the passenger's seat. Observing the scene, Cat suddenly cried out. Baby wipes were in the glove compartment, reminding her that her fingerprints were all over the pole. She held her hands up and cried in horror.

"Oh God! " She screamed, "I can't do anything can I? Life's just out to get me all the time!" She pulled the wipes out and wiped down the pole. "I'll deal with this later. But now, time to take care of Catherine Marie Adams."

Looking down at the dead cop and hooker, Cat twisted her ring around her fingers. Suddenly, she stopped whirling it around and her heart skipped a beat.

"Time to really take care of me." She whispered. She reached for her ring, but stopped.

"Nana...Nana I love you. Just please tell me you're proud of me." She felt a tear run down her cheek. Pulling it off and kissing it lightly, she whispered, "You may not approve with what I'll end up doing in the future, but you're right, I need to break out of the ordinary...and he's the only one I could ever do that for...like you and Grandpa." She kissed it one more time and whispered, "I love you so much, but I don't think I can talk to you anymore." Before placing it on the middle finger of the hooker's left hand. She began to turn, but stopped, remembering something. Reaching into her bra, she pulled out the only thing left that identified her as Catherine Adams. Her picture of her beloved Gordon Setter, Frida. Cuddling it to her chest, she remembered the day her dad had brought her home as a puppy. Cat remembered coming home from secondary school to see the box on the dining room table. She remembered the puppy jumping out on her, practically chewing her nose off. She remembered in those early days, Frida had spent most of her time rolling around the living room. "That dog spends more time on her back than anything else!" Her mother had laughed. Cat had looked up from the film she was watching (Frida, starring Salma Hayek) and smiled. "Wow, a proper Frida Kahlo." Cat smiled at how the name just seemed to stick. Her mind flashed. Her running with Frida through a field in summer, Frida at the bottom of her bed. Yes, she had more affection for her dog than anything, unlike humans, dogs couldn't hurt her. Cat sobbed. Her, Jamie, Claire, her parents and Frida. The perfect nuclear family. It was a safe and blissful bubble.

"It was a good childhood." She cried, "In spite of the small things, in the grand scheme, it was good. I'm just hard to please." She kissed the photo, "I love you mum. Better you think I'm dead than what I've become. Just...just know I'm ok. I'm not scared, or a freak, I'm just...just changing. I love you guys, but I've just changed." She lowered her photo and let the tears fall onto it. "Claire...I hope Craig realises each and every day how lucky he is to have you...I mean, you're a control freak and you drive me crazy most of the time...but you'll make a great mother. You too Soph! Look after Jay ok? He and me have never been able to control our emotions. He'll need you.

Little Cat. This may sound stupid coming from me now, but the world is such an exciting place. Don't fear it. Embrace it. May you live in interesting times kid, if you are like me like the commissioner says, just know, you're a stunner. Don't let anyone put you down, not on how you look or how you dress...don't do what I did for five years and hate everything about you, it wastes time." Wiping a tear from her face, one more face entered her mind.

"I don't hate you daddy. I'm sorry I made you think I did. I know you only ever wanted what was best for me...I love you daddy, I never thanked you for all you did for me did I? I forgive you for everything, I know I never made it easy for you and I'm sorry I never did a medical degree like everyone else. Just know, I'm doing what you always wanted for me and making sure I'm happy. I'm sorry I could never be happy as a housewife as you wanted. Though if it makes you feel better." She straightened up, smiling brightly, "Mum, Dad, I've met someone. He's called Jonathan and he's a doctor. He makes me happy but it's never dull with him. I'm afraid he's a little older than me, but don't worry. I can guarantee you, he always defends me, he's so intelligent and...and I do love him." With that, she tucked the photo of Frida under the top of the dead body and looked down at her.

"From now on, you're Catherine Marie Adams." She informed it, "You'll be repatriated to England, you'll have a funeral where a lot of people will attend...don't worry, your death will be mourned...you were loved. Hopefully, if your parents remember your vow from when you were 15, your ashes will be scattered at Whitby. It's a lovely place, don't worry about a thing. This is my gift to you. A more loved death than life ever was."

With that, she reached into the glove compartment and pulled out Baptiste's lighter and closed the door. She walked calmly round to the hood and lifted it, pulling out different pipes and wires so that fluid began spurting out all over the place. Going back around to Baptiste's side, she opened the door and reached for the radio in the cradle, which was beginning to go insane now.

"Detective Baptiste, come in! Come in Baptiste, what's going on on your end." Cat picked it up, wiping the tears from her eyes, she clicked it.

"Hello." She sobbed quietly, making her voice quiver in fear.

"Jesus! What's going on? Who's this?" The radio yelled, "Where's Baptiste?"

"She...she's dead." Cat sobbed, "I don't know, men jumped in front of the car and...and shot her. Help me! They're outside! They're trying to get in."

"Good God!" Exclaimed the voice, "Where are you now? We'll be there..." Cat quickly banged her fist against the windscreen.

"Oh god! They're trying to get in! They're screaming my name! Please, please hel..." She cut herself off however, as she screamed at the top of her lungs and pointed the gun, firing it through the windscreen.

"Oh Jesus! Come in Catherine Adams. Miss Adams! Please come in."

Cat threw the radio down into the stairwell and pulled herself out of the car, slamming the door. She gave one last look at the car, whispering "Life is beautiful. Let future generations cleanse it of all oppression and live it to the full." Before turning away and running as far as she could before throwing the lighter back behind her without a second glance. As she rounded the corner, she heard the explosion, she felt the ground shake, but she didn't stop, she just started running, tucking the gun in her skirt. That would be needed later.

Cat wandered down the street. As she had hoped, nobody took any notice of the prostitute covered in cuts walking down the street, they were all more wrapped up in their own lives to care about the supposedly beaten woman who was shivering from the cold. She prayed that phase two of her plan would work, or at least, kick into action soon, she was freezing.

"Hey, sweetheart." A man called from a car, pulling up to Cat's side (inwardly she smiled), "Need a lift somewhere?"

Cat smiled gratefully and approached the car, "Why not? Going to a wild party, guess I need to get warm before I arrive, it's more fun that way." Before slipping in besides the man. The man, a fat, bald, slug of a man in a cheap polyester suit, smiled sleazily at her.

"So what kinda party you going to sweetheart?" He asked, snaking his hand onto her thigh. Cat's breath hitched slightly, feeling the vomit rise in her throat in revulsion and fear, but she swallowed it.

"Please let this work." She inwardly prayed, "Either this works, or I'll be found in a ditch tomorrow and will just be some nameless whore."

"Oh the freaky kind of party y'know?" She smiled, putting on the thickest American accent that she could muster, "You into the freaky stuff hun?" The man smiled hideously.

"Oh yeah gorgeous, I love the freaky stuff." _God, please let this work._

"Oh wonderful! Fancy your own weird, freaky little party?" She purred seductively. To Cat, her heart stopped and time stood still, would this work, or would this be her last night on earth for real."

"Sure." The man beamed, "What do you have in mind?"

Expelling breath gratefully, Cat continued to smile seductively. She could almost hear Hannibal now, telling her about simple mind games.

_"The trick my Sparrow." He had told her, "Never tell someone outright what to do. Always just imply, but never outrightly suggest. Humans are the most gullible sheep around. It's easy to twist humans to your actions, it just takes brains."_

"Oh, I don't know." She said coyly, "Know any freaky places we can go?" The man suddenly brightened up.

"Hey, They caught the Scarecrow the other day! His hideout's not far from here. Or is that too freaky for you?" _Great, this guy looks like he likes to scream_

"Sounds freaky...let's do it." She said, making her voice go slightly huskier, but still keeping the air of 'whatever you want to do, you're the boss.' The man smiled brightly, turning the car round a corner excitedly. _Who the hell wants a prostitute who's covered in cuts? Oh Crane, this had better work out. I'd rather be dead than be alone to face this filth._

"Here we are gorgeous." The man said, trying to growl seductively. Cat looked out. It seemed like a lifetime ago since she had helped Scarecrow dispose of the bodies of those who had dared to attack Johnny. Cat suddenly tensed up. Not from fear, but out of the same protectiveness she had felt for Crane that day. Looking towards the man, she continued smiling sexily.

"Gotham villains turn you on?" She asked, snaking her hand to his crotch. The man groaned.

"Sure sweetheart, well, you gotta love all that torture stuff that they do doncha? Specially that Joker. Look, I'm gonna wear my joker mask for this alrigh'? Let's play a game where I'm the Joker and you're my latest victim." And with that, he pulled a white, full faced white expressionless mask out of his glove compartment. Cat suppressed a sickened expression. Trust her to end up with the one Joker freak who'd be happier probably carving her face up than fucking her...or both.

"You coming then sweetheart?" Asked the sleazy curb walker. Cat looked away from the building into the man's eyes. _I can't believe this worked! I'm still alive and I've found my way back here...I've found my way back. This crazy plan might just work yet._

"I'm afraid." Cat said apologetically, "That you've got the wrong idea about me. I'm a lady." Before pulling her gun out from her underwear and firing the gun between the man's eyes at close range. That was the end of yet another leech on human civilisation thought Cat as she wiped the recesses of brains and skull from her face.

"Merci beaucoup." She said brightly, letting herself out of the car. Looking back in the car and admiring her handy work, she looked properly at the mask, still being held by the dead man. Raising an eyebrow, Cat pulled it away from him and held it up admiringly. It was a haunting mask indeed, no features, but enabled the wearer to express their eyes. Looking up in the hang mirror, Cat put the mask on. She jumped back slightly, the effect was indeed terrifying. Crane was right, her eyes were indeed those containing judgement day, especially when the mask itself was splattered with blood. She looked...like a character from a Greek play.

"Well, at least it covers the cuts." She giggled to herself. Suddenly, she remembered the inconvenience of her fingerprints. Sighing, she walked back to the hood of the car and again, pulled out a series of wires enabling gasoline to spill out. Crouching to the ground, she picked up a brick and threw it into the car, landing on the accelerator. She twisted the keys and fiddled with the gear stick, jumping back as the car sped off down the street.

"Freaky enough for you?" She called, waving her hand, "I know I'm getting turned on right now." She laughed as she saw the car crash into a brick wall at the bottom of the street, glorying in the grand explosion that ensued. Doing a pirouette, Cat jokingly sang:

"Burn baby burn! Disco inferno, burn baby burn, burn that mother dooooowwwwwn"

She giggled lightly to herself before stopping suddenly. "Don't fall so in love with the night that you lose your head and burn." She whispered, remembering her obsession with Anne Rice. "Come on Catherine, you have work to do."

Carefully and quietly opening the door (in case there were any leftover cops in there), Cat snuck into the house, gun raised ready. Seeing that the lights were completely off and not hearing any other noise, Cat decided that she was alone and lowered her gun.

"Ok, time for the next phase." She whispered to herself, running into the living room and straight to the wall only days ago, Scarecrow had pulled back and revealed a treasure trove of inventory. Looking down on one crane, she saw the first sign that Crane had ever been in her life. Draped over the lid, was the Scarecrow mask. Reaching out and picking it up, she took off the white expressionless mask and pulled on the burlap mask instead. To say it was itchy didn't even cover it, but she kept it on, stroking her face. Breathing in, she could smell him. She could smell his cologne. It was spicy, but still gave off the faint aroma of perspiration. She didn't care. She sunk to the ground in sheer, orgasmic ecstasy. In one day, she had murdered three people, not including herself. She had taken such risks in getting to this point now, she could have died in the car crash, she could have been raped in the car with that sweaty slug...anything could have happened, but she was still here.

"It's a sign." She howled in the throes of hysteria, "I'm supposed to have survived all of that. To get to this point. Back to where I belong...JONATHAN." She screamed, sweeping her hand from the mask, sweeping her hands down her body down past her breasts, down past her navel and towards her mini skirt, before stopping just before the waistline. Panting.

"If I could wear your clothes, I'd pretend I was you, and lose control." She sang deliriously. She could just imagine him there, lips pressed to her where the respirator was. She gently blew on it, feeling it land softly back onto them. Sighing in anticipation for the reunion of her and Crane, she sat up and smiled at the boxes.

"All the stuff I need to get to Arkham." She muttered. she fell on a box, ripping the top off like a child at Christmas. "Ah ha!" She cried triumphantly, holding her rocket boots up. "One way to avoid trying to find Arkham and getting lost...fly there." She pulled off her fishnets and slipped them on, whispering Crane's instructions on how to use them.

"Hannibal, please wait, I'll be there soon." She whispered, pulling off the mask and pulling out a plutonium cell to put in the boots.

"Ok wise ass, what now? You're just going to fly to Arkham and fetch Crane like you're picking a kid up from school?" Cat growled inwardly.

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" She looked towards another box, which she recalled was full of chemicals and acids.

"First, time for Cat Adams to really disappear."

She pulled out a selection of acids out of the box and carefully examined the labels. 'Extremely _corrosive'_ most of them warned, which would have scared most people into putting the flasks back. Cat however, smiled victoriously and carried a selection over to where a few burlap sacks were thrown in the corner. Ripping off pieces of the material, she liberally doused the sacking with the acids.

"Well...goodbye Cat." She whispered, trying to push her hands onto the material, but faltering. "Urgh, hate the anticipation of pain!" She muttered shakily. Why, why was she afraid of a little pain? Her heart was racing at hundred miles per hour, but she closed her eyes.

"Fear is in the mind, pain is in the mind, fear is in the mind, pain is in the mind." She chanted to herself, before slamming her hands into the soaked wrapping.

Pain. That would be all Catherine would remember of that night before she reached the asylum later in her life (she would go on to block out her goodbyes to her family, there were some things Catherine never wanted to remember). She sunk to the ground screaming, feeling her fingerprints dissolve in the rags, she tightened her eyes and reminded herself who she was doing this for. She imagined Crane behind those walls, locked up. She saw him, a broken shell of a man. That could never happen, not to Jonathan Crane who was always so full of pride. No, the pain was worth it.

Pulling her hands out of the rags, she held them up groaning in pain. She had never seen such a sight, the skin on her tips was gone. She squeaked in shock, seeing the bone showing. She lowered them, breathing heavily in pain, shaking. Suddenly, she collapsed to the ground, throwing up on the floor.

"Ok." She groaned, heaving on all fours with her fingertips up, "Ok, I never want to that again...oh Jesus." She screamed in pain. "How the fuck am I meant to spring a guy from jail when I can't use my fucking hands?"

Standing up weakly, she went back to the crate containing the acids to find the black gloves she supposed that Crane used when he handled the acids. "Well, these will have to do." She muttered weakly, slipping them on and hissing in pain, but it at least they were now cushioned. Looking towards the rest of the boxes, she smiled weakly.

"Well, I can't storm a building with just a gun." She said, looking at Baptiste's gun which she had chucked to the side when she had closed the wall to the safe room. "Let's see what Q has for me now."

Flipping open another crate, she rooted around, hearing Crane's voice that day he had presented her with her rocket boots...the day she had truly seen Crane for the first time.

"_Think of them like mini rocket launchers Sparrow."_

"Wait." Cat yelled, "I've got it!" Pulling two out, she checked the bullets to see each one fully loaded. Smiling, she pulled out two holsters, strapping them to her black mini skirt and sticking the guns in.

"I have one chance to show Crane I'm worthy of him." She whispered, "That I'm not a sparrow like the rest." Picking up the mask again, she smiled. "Psyche descended into the underworld to prove her love for Eros. Let's think of this that way." She declared firmly, putting the blood spattered mask back on. Walking out of the room and up to the bedroom her and Crane had shared on that last night (her heart sunk to see that the bed and Crane's entire computer system had been stripped), to the mirror hung up on the far wall (nailed in place so that the police couldn't move it). She looked at herself in the mirror. The purple boob tube showed off a far too revealing amount of flesh in her opinion (including her slight pot belly which, despite the year of starvation she couldn't shift), but it showed off her pointed shoulder blades and complimented her boobs.

"It'll do for the minute." She decided. Besides, they complimented her purple rocket boots. Indeed, the image in the mirror was terrifying. But one thing wasn't right.

"My hair." She growled out loud, running her gloved hand through her long brunette mane. "Any dolt with half a brain might be able to figure out Catherine Adams's turned to the dark side and broken her kidnapper out of prison the night she supposedly died if they see me and the woman who broke him out have the same bloody hair style!"

Looking at herself for a second she seriously considered cutting it all off, but shot that idea down quickly.

"Hell no. Not vain anymore, but god damnit, I love my hair this long." She growled. In the corner, there was one small elastic band, half hidden under a film of dust. Tying her hair up, she thought to how Crane disguised himself. With the burlap scarecrow mask. Indeed, apart from the cold eyes, there was no other way of telling it was indeed Jonathan Crane behind that.

"I've got it!" She yelled, turning away from the mirror and running down, back to the panic room, she pulled back the wall and up to the pile of coarse potato sacks. Holding one up, she smiled evily from behind her mask. Rummaging in the box, she pulled out a pair of scissors and laughed as she began cutting a hole big enough for her face. Throwing the scissors into the wall, she held her bag up triumphantly. Throwing it over her head, she felt the power come flooding back, just like the Scarecrow mask did. Scooping down and picking the mask back up, she lovingly stroked it again.

"How do I look Hannibal?" She crooned to it, not asking the mask, but more singing her new look from the rooftop. Looking at it wide eyed, she nodded.

"You're right Hannibal, it just need one more thing. She placed the mask lovingly back on the crate and unhooking the gun holders from around her belt. Placing them carefully on the crate next to the mask, she retrieved the scissors and another sack, snipping away until she was left with a ragged, scarecrow like skirt of burlap, which she put on instead of the hooker's black skirt.

"No, still not enough." She cried, lunging for the crates. "Hannibal needs to see that I am worthy of being his equal! I not only need to be with him, I need to be hi..." Stopping dead rant, Cat pulled out the ultimate embodiment of Crane...his fear gas.

"Hannibal." She thought wondrously. She remembered the night she killed Eddie (only a few nights ago, but to Cat, it seemed like another lifetime, like an old woman recalling her debutant days), she had fought the happiness she had felt to see the effect it had on Eddie, but now, free of inhibitions, she twirled around, the two canisters and the device they were attached to, letting the power they promised flow through her gloved hands and into her body.

"Bingo." She giggled, attaching them to her wrists. They were ingenious devices really, they attached to the wrists and could be easily operated by lifting the wrists and aiming at the desired target. Cat took the scissors and cut a slit in her gloves so that she could stuff the devices in the gloves. Sticking the gun belt back on, she twirled around, letting the power flow through her.

"Psyche descended into the underworld to prove her love." She repeated , "Now to show you how far I'll go for you."

* * *

Crane closed his eyes. This had been the longest he had gone without setting eyes on Catherine and this fact depressed him. Luckily for Jonathan, Scarecrow had pulled through, finally resurfacing for air. It had been a long, hard struggle, revisiting places he never wished to see again. Finally though, he had come up. There would be long lasting effects, things Scarecrow worried for, as he had no idea what these effects would be.

"Johnny-Boy!" Called Scarecrow, worried about his host, "Please, talk to me." Crane looked up from his straightjacket, smiling.

"Scarecrow?" He whispered. He no longer felt that he was being pummelled by a waterfall, he was finally seeing clearly. Scarecrow smiled down at him.

"Yes my friend, I'm back." He gently put his hand on Crane's shoulder, "How are you feeling?" Crane sighed.

"Like I've being hit by a truck to be honest, though I think I'm over it now." Crane muttered. Scarecrow nodded.

"Well, if you're being sarcastic, then that must mean you're back to normal." He snickered in his gravelly voice. Crane however, did not join in with the laughter. Instead, he put his head down, dejected. Scarecrow stopped.

"What is it? Is it a side effect?" He growled alarmed. Crane shook his head.

"No...just you then, reminded me of...of..."

"Cat?" The Scarecrow finished. Crane looked up thunderously.

"No, not Cat. Catherine. Don't ever call her Cat. Cat is some animal. People called Cat melt into society. Catherine however..."

"Oh, let me guess." Snapped the Scarecrow poisonously, "The eyes of a Greek goddess with the beauty and intelligence to boot? God, you can sound so fucking cheesy sometimes." Crane narrowed his eyes.

"And you can be so boorish sometimes." He stated mechanically "You were never turned on by her?" Asked Crane, his eyes widening slightly, "To say you're the one to be...ah...aroused by any cheap prostitute with a C section, you do surprise me." Scarecrow growled indignantly.

"You've developed a smart mouth since Strange, you know that?" Crane looked at him sharply.

"Well? Weren't you?" Scarecrow's jaw slackened.

"Fine. No, I wasn't turned on by that clichéd crap." He growled, "Apart from her legs, there was nothing spectacularly sexy about her in that way. Though granted. When she helped you, when she took Strange out, and when she helped me get rid of the bodies...the girl had balls, and she knew loyalty. That was what separated her from society. None of that "ooh, her long hair," or that "Fiery eyes" crap." Crane blushed furiously.

"I never thought that." He in turn growled. "What, you think I actually believed that narcissistic clap trap I fed her? Sparrow's greatest fear stems from a lifetime of not fitting in with society and being tortured for it. As a psychologist, it was my job to play to that and show her that not every one of the 2 billion people on this planet judged her for her looks. Hopefully now, she won't be so constrained to what people think."

"So you never wanted to fuck her?" Asked the Scarecrow sarkily. Crane shuddered at how crude the conversation had become.

"Catherine Adams." He stated, choosing his words carefully, "Was nothing special, and as much as Jervis over there wants to dress it up as a great love story with her as the beautiful princess, it never was. What Sparrow had...apart from her distinctive eyes...yes Scarecrow, I'm grown up to admit that they were indeed beautiful." He snapped, as the Scarecrow collapsed in a fit of uncontrollable hooting, "Like dark hooks for the soul...But it wasn't her physical beauty that defined her. Hell, there are too many beautiful women in the world and look at what use they are. Harley Quinn, the tall Aryan blonde with obvious beauty. Look at her though, completely caught in the Joker. Hell, the woman can't even string a coherent sentence together without the topic of the Joker. Even then, her thoughts aren't her own. Who else? Ah yes, Pam. The tall, fiery red head who walks around completely naked apart from a few leaves but sprouts Mackinnon. That's not smart, that's an ill informed woman with a vendetta and no love for anything. Selena. What can I say? Blonde bombshell again, but no sense of loyalty and a perchance to lick herself. That's not attractive to me. That's disturbed. This brings us to Sparrow. And as for your obsession of laughing at her...companion from her childhood. She's nothing like those Greek deities. She was better. Did you know, the Roman statues of the Venus are way out context? The typical Grecian diet now and then has led archaeologist to conclude that the Venus De Milo shouldn't be a UK size 8, more a size 16. Sparrow's a natural UK size 10. She models herself on them for adventure and strength. She is actually kinder, stronger and wiser than any vain children's story. She may never be a genius like me or Nygma, but she had brains. On top of that, she had all the compassion she could give, you were never shut out from her, but she wasn't hypocritical to walk around pretending all was right with the world, she had her eyes open. Plus, like you said, her loyalty is undeniable."

"And her past?" Scarecrow injected, "Don't tell me that all the time she was telling you about having books thrown at her head because she answered a question in class that you didn't feel turned on by your...ah...past experiences." Crane sniggered.

"Ok, fine. You got me. Yes, I was attracted by that, and I know what you'll say, that she's just like Becky Albright. But you forget Scarecrow, whereas Albright curled up in a ball and cried when she was bullied..."

"Like you." He sneered poisonously. Crane blushed.

"Yes...like me too. Well, Catherine was different, she never took her punishment lying down, she was the one who would pick that book up and throw it back at the people. That is why I miss her now Scarecrow. Unlike every other person in this world, she was strong. Ok, society had worn her down and taught her not to fight back, but she always rebelled. Plus, the woman was special, who else could live through my toxin?" Scarecrow growled in response, unable to contradict Crane. All he could reply though was.

"She still didn't fight enough to stay with you though. Forget her Jon. I'm all you'll ever have."

* * *

_!BREAKING NEWS!_

"_Welcome to this emergency broadcast. This just in, There has been a car explosion in the western _

_prefecture of the Narrows, just ten miles from Gotham General Hospital. Reports are coming in that _

_there have been 2 fatalities. Detective Constable Carmella Baptiste (35) and the recently liberated _

_former hostage of the infamous Jonathan Crane, Catherine Marie Adams (22). Baptiste and Adams _

_were travelling from Gotham General Hospital (where Miss Adams has being recovering since she _

_was freed from captivity by Commissioner James Gordon and his crack squad of police), to the home _

_of Bruce Wayne, owner of Wayne Industries, who had earlier, offered his home as a place of reunion _

_for Miss Adams and her family, who she had not seen for a year. Details are only just coming in, but _

_dental records confirm that the driver of the car was indeed the decorated policewoman Baptiste. _

_However, the body of Miss Adams was too beaten to be identified by the same way. Clothes and _

_A gold ring worn by the victim correspond to that that Catherine Adams was wearing that day. This _

_incident is being treated as suspicious and reports are coming in that this was an inside job by the _

_Scarecrow (currently held at Arkham Asylum for the criminally insane) and his associates in revenge _

_for Catherine Adams's release only yesterday evening. The Adams family have been informed and are _

_currently at Wayne Manor where they were meant to be reunited with their youngest daughter. _

_Instead, they are being consoled in their grief. This reporter can now confirm, the second body has _

_now been officially identified as Catherine Marie Adams. _

Jeremiah Arkham stood at the glass door, scowling at his former boss. Crane had always excelled in the field of Psychopharmacology, much to Arkham's annoyance, Crane continued to publish his works, which were always published in the top Psychological journals, unlike Arkham's own attempts which were always rejected (and not too kindly either). Yes, there was no love lost between Arkham and the Master of Fear. This fact made Arkham's anger at this moment in time more intense. Crane looked up from the seat he was bound to, his frosty eyes becoming practically arctic to behold the snivelling worm that was Jeremiah Arkham.

"Jeremiah." He acknowledged. "I'm glad you've finally come to your senses. I agree that you need to stop your pointless free fall sessions with Waylon Jones, what he needs is a course of beta blockers to make him sick at the taste of blood like an alcoholic when he drinks alcoh..."

"Enough Crane." Snapped the director, "For the last time, I'm the director of this asylum, not you..."

"If that's the reality you want to believe Jeremiah, then I won't be the one to say otherwise." Crane sneered, "After all, as my case study showed, veterans who refused to believe that the Vietnam War was over, do tend to get quite...ah...aggressive."

"Cut the crap." Arkham spat, "You only found that after you doused soldiers with your toxin and put them in a room with those tourists. That wasn't a discovery. That was sick."

"That. Got. Published." Crane countered, turning the corners of his mouth up, only slightly in a sneer. Arkham turned bright red, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key card, he opened the glass door to the cell and strode in, trying, but failing to maintain a professional air. Crane could do nothing but raise his eyebrows in shock as Arkham seized the front of his straightjacket and pulling him up as far as he could. Bringing his face level to Crane's, he practically spat in his face:

"Words just come in Crane. Those boys you hired, they did they're job." Crane narrowed his eyes.

"Well, that's what I pay them for. However, please be so good as to tell them exactly what job I am yet to pay them for?" Arkham growled angrily.

"Catherine Adams is dead you bastard!" He yelled. Crane's eyes nearly widened in shock, but the Scarecrow forced them to remain fixed.

"I..I beg your pardon?" He asked, his heart beginning to beat fast. What the hell was going on? This was surely one of Arkham's cruel and weak attempts at getting to him. Arkham hissed at him.

"Don't play dumb with me Crane, not when the Joker pulled that crap last month. Those bastards were waiting for them. You arranged it, didn't you? You piece of shit."

Crane's throat constricted. He wasn't lying. Arkham was no good at lying to patients, nor was he any good at reverse psychology. He was telling the truth. Arkham rammed him once more.

"You bastard! React will you? You haven't heard her last words have you? You never heard the fear in her voice. She watched her police escort die and then she wasn't even shot immediately afterwards, they tortured her, taunted her. LOOK AT ME YOU BASTARD!"

Inside, Crane's mouth was open and he'd sunk to the ground, his mouth open, but no sound coming out. Beside him, the Scarecrow's mouth slackened, one hand on Jon. No, he couldn't break either. Not now that Jon needed him, he had to be strong.

"Though, between you and me, you ordering her death. Probably the best thing out there." Crane looked up, inwardly, disgusted, but outside, he kept deadpan. Arkham smiled poisonously.

"Poor little lamb, apparently, she never spoke for the entire day. Just a hollow shell of herself really. To be honest, better she die than live with the memory of you on top of her." He jeered. Scarecrow couldn't hold it in any longer, he would not let that cockroach talk to Jonathan like that. No one, but no one taunted Crane but him. He was restrained painfully though, by the jacket and chair. Cursing, he stared into Arkham's very soul and swore vengeance for the slight against his host. Crane remained motionless on the ground in his mind, shocked and broke.

"Look at you." Spat Arkham, rolling the venom in his voice like it was candy. "I would say you'll rot in here for this, but it doesn't make any difference, does it? One more life destroyed by you...just like normal people have notches on their bedposts really..."

"OUT!" The Scarecrow bellowed. He'd had quite enough of the infuriating cock, and he wanted him out. Arkham smiled.

"I swear Crane, nothing would give me greater pleasure, than to see you and the rest of the scum in here burn in the chair. Unfortunately for decent society, the government's gone that crazy that you get out of it by being declared insane...we both know the truth though, don't we Crane? You're not insane. Just evil. They're saying that she was still alive when the car was set on fire. They're saying she burned to death. You getting a boner yet Crane?"

"OUUUT!" Crane picked himself up from the recesses of his mind, screaming at the inept director. Arkham looked down at him in disgust. Drawing himself up to full height, he suddenly snorted, spitting directly in Crane's eyes.

"That's for Catherine Adams and her family." He spat, "Enjoy your cell Crane, you'll not be leaving it for a while. The rest of your life say." And with that, he turned around, shutting the glass door and striding to his office, victorious in battle, leaving a worried Jervis running up to his glass door in horror.

"MARCH! March, please speak to me! Ignore him...March?" Crane did not speak however, his face was deadpan, but a single tear ran down his face.

"Scarecrow?" He was back in the cornfields, hiding from his Grandmother. The Scarecrow appeared by his side.

"It'll be alright Jonathan." He tried to sound omnipotent and all knowing, as if it would be all alright. Despite his firm voice however, he knew it was pointless. To Jonathan, this was worst than Albright. Despite Scarecrow's hatred of the boring, treacherous snake of a woman, Crane had allowed himself to lose focus of the mission, to lose his mind in some lame attempt at reaching out for human emotion. That had been easy to get over, it had shown Jonathan that the whole stinking human race was a cesspool of filth and deception. It had been easy to make Johnny forget her, to make the darkness expand in him. With Cat (he wasn't as stuck up as Jon. She hated Cathy and Kate, but had gone by Cat her entire life, so it was what Scarecrow would call her. Besides, he would never call her Sparrow like some lovesick teenager), it would be hard. The bitch hadn't been afraid of him in the end, worst, she had shown...compassion. There was no denying it, Cat Adams had gotten under Jonathan Crane's skin (and though he would never admit it, her sheer ballsyness and sarcasm had affected him too). He knew this would hurt Jonathan more than anything in a long time.

Jervis stood at his cell, face and hands pressed up against his door. The conversation with Arkham had taken place an hour ago and March had retreated to his mind ever since. Jervis wasn't worried about that, Crane had a habit of retreating to his head to have a conversation with his 'inner Cheshire Cat' (as Jervis called Scarecrow...much to his annoyance). However, what did worry Tech right now was how long this had gone on for.

"March, please talk to me!" He practically yelled, banging on the glass. Crane didn't respond. Another tear ran down his dull blue eye.

"I'm a dingle dangle Scarecrow, with a flippy floppy hat." He sang, dead and monotone.

Yes, that's all he was. That was all he ever had.

* * *

Midnight at Arkham. The graveyard shift sounds daunting in any job, but at this asylum, nobody but the toughest, most experienced wanted to work it. When it got to ten o clock, the wisest of doctors, orderlies and guards clocked off and headed for the safety of their homes. Only the desperate, new and foolish remained. Up on the thirteenth floor (or the 'Rogues Gallery' as it was infamously known as), the lights were out, giving way to impenetrable darkness which was only briefly broken every few hours by a guard patrolling down with a torch to make sure that no one had escaped. A shaft of light illuminated the seventh cell to the left, the cell of Jonathan Crane.

Despite a cot in the corner under a small, open barred window, Crane was still bound to the dentist chair in the middle of the room in a straight jacket. His head was slumped forward, face covered by curtains of greasy black hair. The guard twisted his torch away, thinking that the doctor had finally fallen asleep (when he was in his cell, Crane was infamous amongst the interns for never sleeping). However, Crane's eyes remained open, fixed to the tiled floor of the cell. He was no longer talking to the Scarecrow. Scarecrow was no longer talking. Both men were just clinging to each other in their mind, numbly falling through the chaos. Catherine was gone. Crane's last chance at any human emotions had been burned in that car along with her body. Crane looked over Scarecrow's shoulder into the cell, illuminated poorly by the precious window, revealing a sickly yellow full moon's light in the cell. Crane finally looked up for real, hearing the snores and gentle breathing of the galleries inmates (with the haunting absence of the Joker's sleep laughing as he was currently on the run), revelling the precious time that they could escape the confides of the cell and be free in their own minds (much better than the usual crazies, who usually screamed in their sleep). Crane couldn't sleep though. For him, it was a choice of sleeping and as a result, being tortured by his Grandmother, or staying awake. Despite the torture of knowing that Catherine was dead, he opted to stay awake. At least in being awake, he had the knowledge that Catherine was real and had existed, if only for a short while, in his life.

"I'll have my revenge." He whispered mutinously, "I'll track down the scum that did that to her in my name. They admire fear do they? Let's see how they like the fear toxin Catherine helped perfect." He smiled. With a concentrated dose, the mind could only take so much, most collapsed on themselves within ten minutes of inhaling the toxin. Sparrow's had been the only mind to actually respond positively to the gas, then again, Sparrow's mind was exceptional, not like the common, weak and licentious ilk of Gotham. Oh yes, if Cat's murder was indeed done in his honour, then he would honour them with a special taste of his masterpiece.

"For Sparrow." He whispered, "Sparrow, Sparrow, Sparrow, Sparr..."

"Hannibal?"

Oh god no! Had he really gone that insane that on the wind, Catherine's voice was all he could hear? Was this her revenge at her death? To haunt him till the end of his days?

"Hannibal?" Her voice came again, sounding desperate. Crane closed his eyes.

"Catherine! Catherine, I beg your forgiveness! Forgive me for your death! I did not order it, I did not want it..."

"Crane." The voice was starting to get mad now. Crane shut his eyes.

"Catherine, PLEASE STOP HAUNTING ME!" He screamed. This outburst drew a lot of anger from the rest of the prisoners.

"Crane, SHUT UP!"

"I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!"

"What is the meaning of this Crane?" Ernie, the night time guard demanded, roused from his office at the end of the corridor by Crane's screams. Crane looked up at the man, squinting slightly at the torch light being shone in his eyes.

"That voice! Don't you hear it?" He demanded desperately, trying to cling to reason and logic. He was the Scarecrow, he didn't suffer from guilt when his subjects died. Many times different subjects had bled to death in front of him after biting their own tongues out or chomping chunks out of their wrists in terror. There was a simple pattern. Watch them die, recording their last thoughts, then making suitable disposal plans before finding a new subject. Never before had he felt anything watching these people, men and women, die. Why now? When he hadn't actually seen her die. Ernie clicked his false teeth impatiently. He was getting to old for this now, if his pension wasn't paltry, then he wouldn't be working the worst shift at the worst place in the world. Damn lunatics.

"There's nobody talking you murdering bastard, just you. Now, shut up and go to sleep." Noticing the glass of Crane's window open, he sighed. Arkham had left strict instructions that the small window be left open so that 'the dick hopefully freezes to death in the night,' but then again, Arkham didn't have to put up with his orders when he went home at night and Ernie certainly wasn't going to be the one to go in the Scarecrow's cell to shut it, even if the man was in a straight jacket. Suddenly, a loud hiss came from Crane's cell.

"You should be kissing his feet mortal!" Ah great, Ernie thought, that freaky Scarecrow's back.

"Not another word Crane." He warned, turning on his heels, "That goes for the rest of you freaks as well." He warned to the rest of the inmates now abusing Crane for their interrupted night. They all fell silent. In Arkham, anything reported by the night time guards would be reported, leading to punishment in the morning. As Ernie closed the door, the impenetrable darkness resumed.

Cat rose back to the open, but barred window. She had spent hours flying around the outside part of the asylum, looking through every window whilst avoiding spotlights and being seen by anybody. Tartarus. That was all she could describe what she had seen in those cells, lost souls, screaming, trapped in their own prisons much worse than anything Arkham could provide. It changed Cat that day, as she made a vow that even if the spotlight saw her and she was shot down in the air, she would find Crane.

She had to admit, Jonathan had been right, the rocket boots were ingenious really, and so easy to operate.

The same simpleness could not also be put with how she had gotten to Arkham, it simply did not cover how she felt, stepping out of the house for the first time dressed in her apparel. Feeling the early autumn breeze around her bare stomach, she breathed it in, stretching her arms out like she had just gotten out of bed. She felt like a newborn infant seeing the world as if for the first time. She smiled. This city was hers now, she wasn't just anybody. She was Psyche and Jonathan was Scarecrow, God forgive anybody who tried to separate them.

Clicking her heels together, she put her arms back up as she sailed up into the night sky. Looking upwards, her mind went blank. No words in the world could describe the freedom which coursed through her veins. Up, up, the more she rose above the sky scrapers, the more she felt herself leave the world behind. Looking up, Cat felt that she could simply soar to the moon, no more Gotham, no more Cat, no more pain in her fingers. She would simply transform into a shooting star and shoot across the universe. She suddenly began shaking. Clicking her heels gently to hover, she stopped.

"Maybe I can't fly to the moon just yet." She muttered, "I'd freeze and suffocate before I even get within a hundred miles of it." Sighing she put her head down and squeaked.

Gotham loomed below her threateningly. Cat's heart exploded, realising that all it took was for the power to cut out and she would plummet to her death. Her throat constricted and she closed her eyes defensively.

_On the top of the stairwell, leaning backwards, moving forwards..._

_ Suddenly, somebody grabbed hold of her hands. Looking up, Crane held on tight._

_ "Do not fear your fear Catherine, embrace it." He chanted to her softly._

Cat opened her eyes again. Still floating in the air. She smiled. The plutonium cells weren't going to cut out anytime soon. Looking at the ground, so far below, well, it didn't hold the same sway over her as it did. As she looked down at a possible death, she didn't get the dizziness or that heart attack she used to. No, this new sensation was a peculiar, numb feeling. As if her heart was stopping, but it wasn't hers to stop. As she stared down at the ground, she felt as if she was staring down at her fear from a safe distance. At a safe distance because of the boots that Hannibal had given her. She smiled. This wasn't fear she was feeling, it was...love? or maybe love and fear together. Whatever the feeling was, Cat felt as if she was flying side by side with him, and was the most thrilling experience of her life. Rising up until all of Gotham was far below her. Looking over to where Ryder had pointed Arkham out, she recognised the familiar looking old mansion in the distance. She smiled. 3 hours by foot from the hospital maybe, and more now, but she wasn't walking.

Within ten minutes, she was at the walls of Arkham. Hovering behind the wall, she let her mind think. She had no idea what to do now, and that was what scared her at that moment in time, not heights or bees, but not being in control.

"What now?" She whispered, "Go in and get hopelessly lost? It's bigger than it looked at the hospital...fuck!" She cursed.

Despite being armed to the teeth with explosives and arms, she elected not to go storming into Arkham.

"Think what Hannibal would say! He'd tell you to think logically. No use in jumping in at the deep end! Look in every window."

For a lifetime she did that, silently looking through every window, dodging every searchlight. She got colder and colder as she went on, but she refused to give up. Every scar inflicted on her, every drop of blood spilt...even if she got frostbite, it was all for him.

Looking into their cells, Cat felt her heart beat for those locked in their cells. Arkham was indeed, a depressing, dead place. She stared into the faces of the lost, the catatonic and the screaming, all caught in their delusional minds. This place was awful, a place for the dregs of society, not a place for the most brilliant man Cat had ever met.

After hours, Cat was finally at the top floor, and was losing hope that she would ever find Crane, when she looked into one cell. It was the same basic design as the rest, apart from a giant glass screen door instead of a normal one like the rest below. Cat peered in. In the middle of the cell, a lone figure sat on what looked like a dentist's chair, strapped in by a straight jacket and head bent, muttering. She was about to move on when she heard a familiar sound through the muttering.

"Sparrow, Sparrow, Sparrow." She felt her heart leap.

"Hannibal?" She whispered, blushing as she felt fireworks go off in her stomach. She had found him. After all that had come to pass, they were together again. Something was wrong however. He had frozen, stopped muttering, as if frightened. Cat's smile dropped from behind her mask. No, this wasn't what was meant to happen! Why didn't he turn around? Only she had ever called him Hannibal, why didn't he recognise her?

"Hannibal!" She repeated. _Turn around! Please look at me darling._ Something unexpected happened next. He started screaming.

"Catherine! Catherine, I beg your forgiveness! Forgive me for your death! I did not order it, I did not want it..."

"Crane!" She yelled at him. What on Earth was happening? Crane suddenly strained his neck desperately.

"Catherine, PLEASE STOP HAUNTING ME!" He was screaming. Her heart stopped. What was going on? Did he think tha...

"Ohhh." She exclaimed. So the car had been found? Somebody must have told him, and now he thought she was dead. Cat shuddered. She felt awful that her death was clearly having such an effect on him (though, although she felt bad to admit it, slightly thrilled as well). She was about to call out to him again, when the entire block erupted in anger. Ah, so this was the rest of the Rogues Gallery? Cat felt tempted to peer into the rest of the windows to see what everyone looked like, but before she could, she heard a security guard approach Crane's cell. Diving below the window and hovering (reason within her told her to grab the ledge, but her still bleeding fingers would have made that impossible), waiting.

"That voice? Can't you hear it?" She heard him demand in desperation. Despite half of her feeling badly about putting the man she was in love with through this, the other half smiled.

"Maybe next time he'll believe me when I say that somebody's watching me in the shower." She thought mutinously to herself.

"There's nobody talking to you you murderous bastard." The security guard spat. Cat's eyes widened and her mouth thinned from behind the mask. Even in her fury at Crane, nobody was allowed to speak to him like that.

"You should be kissing his feet mortal." She hissed unintentionally and quite loudly. Squeaking in shock and covering the mouth bit of the mask, she held her breath, waiting for the guard to come and shine the torch below the window and find her. Waiting. Waiting.

"Not another word out of you Crane." _Oh good! He must think Hannibal said that...sounds like something he would say actually."_

She listened, hearing the footsteps leave, the light go out and the warning to the rest. Now was the time to strike.

Rising back up to the window, she wrapped her hands around the bars and smiled at the restrained man in the middle.

"I forgive you Hannibal." She soothed to him. Crane's breath hitched again, his neck beginning to crane to see the source of the voice.

"Sparrow? Catherine, please, don't leave me, keep haunting me. Just don't leave me." He wept. Cat shushed him soothingly.

"This isn't a haunting Jonathan. This is liberation." She cried before bringing her right foot up in front of her like a snap kick. Banging hard on the wall, she shot backwards with some speed. Smiling triumphantly, she brought the left leg kicking into her right, causing them to go into hover mode.

"Nobody leaves the underworld unless the royal family commands it." She screamed, "Now Persephone's commanding her Hades to come out." Thus, pulling a fully loaded rocket gun out of its holster and aiming it at the wall.

"Duck sweetie." She called sarcastically, pulling the trigger.

Glorious, satisfying discord. They were the only words Cat could cherry pick in that instant, watching the missile fly towards the wall in slow motion. Clicking the heels, she let herself fall a decent way, as to avoid the inevitable carnage. Obviously, as the rocket impacted, a magnificent explosion followed. Cat laughed manically, almost hearing Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture in her head as she dodged the cascading bricks and damage. The spotlights which she had successfully evaded for hours now homed in on her, highlighting her to the guards. Cat's smile got wider as her arms rose up to bathe in the light aimed at her, as if she was on a cross.

"Ah, the world beholds the mistress of fear for the first time." She crooned evilly, clicking her heels to rise up, like a masked Jesus, "Right now however, my subjects must wait, there is only one who is worthy of me right now."

Crane groaned on the floor, still trapped in the chair. After Ernie had left, he had had a wonderful feeling, the voice. It was Cat's voice again, forgiving him. Forgiving him! A man so far out of the way of forgiveness was being granted it by the woman he could never expect it from. Without warning however, a hard bang rang throughout his ears and he was thrown forwards, crashing to the floor painfully and rolling in the chair. Looking up slowly, he gasped. Terrified.

A demon. That was all what was rising in the blinding light, a demon from hell, the ones Grandma would threaten would drag him to hell where he belonged. He gasped in horror at the bloodied, white, expressionless face, the fire coming from its feet ...fire coming from its eyes...wait! He knew those eyes!

"Sparrow?" He asked slowly. He couldn't believe his eyes. Had he gone completely insane like Arkham always said he had? Why was Catherine dressed like the thing that used to haunt his nightmares as a child? The figure floated towards him, before landing nimbly at his head and looked down.

"You once told me once." It remarked coldly. Crane's eyes widened. Nobody else he knew had an English accent like that. It truly was...it had to be.

"That straitjackets are incredibly difficult to get out of by yourself." She crooned, stroking his head with a single foot, "Amazing how circumstances can change for the person isn't it?"

"YOU! GET AWAY FROM THE PRISONER AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP!" Ernie and a host of new security guards were screaming on the other side of the glass, guns poised in a vain attempt to look powerful. Cat raised an eyebrow from behind the mask, exasperated. This couldn't be like a proper Hollywood reunion could it? Where the heroine declared her love for the hero and they kiss and ride into the sunset. Nah, this was her. Of course she couldn't have the perfect ending. Groaning, she looked down at the awestruck Crane.

"One minute my darling. I have to deal with the ilk." Clicking her heels together, she rose up off the ground, just as the glass door opened.

"Wh...who are you?" Squeaked one of the guards, his gun shaking in his hands. Cat threw her head back in laughter.

"Me? I'm the memory that drives you insane. I'm the image you want to forget but can't. I'm the destroyer of minds. I am your mind. I. Am. Psyche, the true mistress of fear." The wiser of the group of guards stepped back in fear, this woman was loaded to the teeth with amo and her eyes seemed able to strike a man down where he stood, definitely not one who the more experienced staff wanted to piss off. Saying that, the newest security guard, a young teenager just out of high school by the name of Gary Stubbs stepped forward.

To say that Gary was a few sandwiches short of a picnic owing to a trigger happy obsession stemming from a lifetime of playing Resident Evil was an understatement. Seeing the ghostly demon in front of him didn't seem to faze him. Cat raised her eyebrows at him, wondering whether to be impressed or exasperated at the thick security guard who showed no fear.

"Hands up where I can see them freak." He snapped, pointing a taser at her. Cat sighed heavily, bored.

"Freak. Hmmm, such an abstract concept don't you think boy?" She asked, keeping up her strong, powerful voice. Gary faltered slightly.

"Don't play with me you crazy bitch, now get down on the floor or I'm afraid I'll make you sorry you were born." Cat smiled from behind the mask, before succumbing to a fully berthed, irrepressible witches cackle.

"Afraid? My my, such a complex word for one so young. Tell me boy, what do you know of being truly afraid?" Gary's eyes remained fixed on her, the woman who had put the rocket gun back in its holster, was defenceless and was dressed as a cross between a prostitute and a woman with an obsession with potato sacks, still floating in the air.

"You think you're being smart?" He demanded, still trying to keep his own strong voice, but it was beginning to crack. Cat continued to laugh insanely.

"No, just being the only one of us two who seems to understand the true definition of being afraid." She cackled, "Although, I'm feeling generous today, so I will share such knowledge with you." Before raising her wrists to the guard and spraying head to toe in fear toxin. Gary's eyes widened in shock, before fully yielding to the toxins effects, collapsing to the ground. Seeing the guard on the floor screaming, the other guards and orderlies, looked at the floating woman in terror before retreating down the hall. Smiling, Cat looked down at the prostrate boy coldly.

"Of course." She said coolly, "It's a knowledge not everyone can handle. A bit like the end of Lost really isn't it? Only I find this more satisfying." Before clicking her heels off, landing on the ground and kicking the screaming guard in the head with the red hot heels, causing him to only scream now.

"And as for crazy, I resent that." She snapped viciously, "In this day and age, what sane person could live in this world and not be crazy?"

"Catherine?" Crane called. He had watched this whole scene, but could scarcely believe this amazing creature was his old subject. The change was spectacular...and a little frightening. Cat turned her attention back to the trapped doctor, smiling.

"No." She corrected, "Catherine is dead. Psyche." Before crouching down, pulling a knife she had found in the kitchen out from the strap to her boot and cutting him free. Taking the hand offered to him, Crane pulled himself up and regarded Cat.

"And so the Sparrow evolved to be the all powerful deity I knew she would be." He smiled coolly. Cat smiled from behind the mask, bringing a hand up to stroke Crane's face, but instead, drew it back at the last minute and slapped him. Hard. Jonathan groaned painfully, shocked at the unexpected action. Cat's eyes narrowed.

"That was for Eddie watching me in the shower you tosser!" She snapped angrily. Crane covered his face. Those heavy duty gloves she was wearing were really painfully.

"Catherine..." He began, "I know. I realised that the minute I saw you in my room, why do you think I gave my blessing for his execution hmmm?" Cat faltered.

"You knew?" She whispered. Crane nodded.

"I wronged you. For that, all I can do is ask for your forgiveness. Though by the looks of it, our past is the least of your problems right now. I know this may not be the time, but what the hell are you doing here?"

Cat opened her mouth. "I...I..." Suddenly, she heard the door at the bottom of the corridor. Both turning their head in unison, they both inwardly growled at the interruption. Guards surrounded the cell, pointing guns at the criminal and the fugitive.

"HANDS UP NOW!" They screamed. Crane turned to Cat.

"I think Psyche, that these men haven't being introduced to you." He announced coolly. Cat nodded, stepping forward, just before the now foaming Gary.

"Gentlemen." Cat greeted simply, before raising her wrists and covering the entire group in toxin.

Crane smiled at hearing the screams, such a glorious noise he had indeed missed.

"It's nice to see that look of alarm on other people's faces." He crooned, but there was no time to drink it up. Walking up and tapping his finger on her shoulder, he whispered to Cat.

"Psyche. We have much to talk about, but I think we should adjourn to a place we are less likely to be interrupted. This may take some time and I fear we shall be interrupted again soon." Cat nodded.

"If you're talking about Batman, I wouldn't worry. Most likely, he'll be with my family all night." However, she nodded.

"I say." Tech who had watched the entire show from his show with excitement, seeing who he supposed was March's own special Alice, risen from the grave and on hand to rescue her prince like a reverse fairytale, "I say, would you be so kind to open my door? I'm afraid I'm rather inconvenienced here." Cat's eyes narrowed. How dare this man ask anything of her?

"And why would I do a thing like that?" She sneered, turning towards the hole in the wall. Crane looked at her in disbelief, then realised the obvious. It wasn't anything personal against Jervis, it was just that he was a man. He looked at her softly. She had conquered her fear of heights, but this fear of men, this would need help.

"Sparrow." He said softly. "Let him out." Cat looked at him sharply.

"Are you insane Jonathan? There's no way in hell I'm letting him out..."

"Catherine." He repeated, slightly more firmly, but still soft, "He won't hurt you. I promise." Conceding defeat, Cat nodded and pulled the rocket gun from her side.

"You may want to duck." She called to Jervis, who nodded and hid under his cot as she pulled out the rocket gun and fired a single shot through the glass screen to Tech's cell, shattering it into a million pieces.

"Afraid you'll have to make your own way out from here old friend." Crane called, amid the chaos of glass, smoke and twenty orderlies and guards rolling around on the ground in fear, stepping in front of Cat. Tech smiled at his friend.

"Never fear March, I will be quite satisfied from here." He smiled, waving his hand as if holding an imaginary top hat to Crane, before turning to Cat and bowing deeply, "Your majesty the white queen. Your servant thanks you from the bottom of his heart for his liberation from the Red Queen's clutches." Cat stared at him from behind Crane in shock. What the hell was this guy smoking?

"Errr...no problem." She mumbled. Crane turned to her, eager to get her away from the god forsaken place that was Arkham.

"Shall we then Psyche?" He asked. Cat snapped back to reality, back from her nightmare.

"Ok, get on." She muttered shyly, tapping her feet and motioning for him to get on her feet. Hissing in pain slightly, they wrapped their arms around each other and together, flew out of the hole in the wall horizontally and into the night. Jervis pushed past the screaming guards, into Crane's cell. Looking into the night, watching the two figures flying away together, his heart rose. What could he say about March's Alice? Well, she certainly wasn't no delicate blonde sweetheart that he was so attracted to. In fact, he dared say that he had never felt more awe and fear seeing the young girl with a blood smattered mask so steadily dispense of all those men. However, he could not deny it. She had risen from the grave to break March out. How many women would do that for their man? Searching for a suitable quote from Alice for this situation, Tech came to an impasse. All he could settle for, but what fitted the situation nevertheless was:

"Do I love you because you are beautiful? Or are you beautiful because I love you?" He whispered, losing sight of them in the dark.

**A/N: Ok, there's the penultimate chapter of this story, I promise the final chapter will be up ASAP. Can you see now why I divided it up into so many chapters? (Don't worry, there will be a sequel)  
**

**Just wanted to do some shout outs I wouldn't be able to do normally. Firstly, to my anonymous reviewers Panda and Athena, thankyou for the amazing comments, I hope you enjoy this chapter too (especially Panda, thanks for what you said on Banshee, I wasn't expecting to see that when I was looking at the reviews :D)**

**Also, just a shout out to Mushi who's the author of amazing Scarecrow stories like Perverted Me etc. I hope you'll be alright and my prayers are with you, this chapters for you xxx**

**As always, review xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
**


	19. Spectacular Endings

**And here's the last chapter of my first long story :D Dedicated to Mrs. Murphy. You wanted a romantic intimate scene? Your wish is my command lol.**

**Chapter 19: Spectacular Endings**

You do not have to travel far outside of Gotham to be in the countryside. The cornfield we open this chapter on is a perfect example of how, just 30 minutes on the outskirts of the city, you could well be in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing within a ten mile radius of the field, with only a dilapidated barn in the middle, surrounded by the 2 acres of soon-to-be-cut corn, which waved serenely in the breeze. In the sky, free from air and city pollution, the night revealed its full glory. The moon was bigger than it was in the city, and no longer a sickly yellow colour but a brilliant bright ivory, the stars were fully out, revealing a beautiful court of diamonds, illuminating the field and giving it a silvery glow. There was something in the sky however, which no one in the countryside had ever seen in their lives, two masked people seemingly flying horizontally towards the field, with their arms wrapped around each other and the burlaped man's legs wrapped suggestively around the woman's (which, to say that he was much taller than her, gave him a comical appearance of a child wrapping himself around his mother). In the air, the character with a burlap sack on his head motioned towards the field to the woman underneath him. Nodding, she clicked her heels and descended down.

Cat flipped herself upright and lowered Crane down first. It wasn't hard to say that he was much taller than her, so a sudden drop wasn't much. Cat clicked her heels off to land on her feet, but was caught by the waist by Crane who lowered her to the ground.

"Now," Crane said, pulling his mask off with one hand, but still holding Cat's hip in another instead of her hand, "Let's try and start this again."

**1 HOUR AGO**

Crane clung to Cat who was underneath him, wrapping his legs around hers precariously. Cat held on tightly with her arms, terrified of holding him with her hands, but also scared of Crane slipping. They hadn't spoken since Cat had swooped in to Arkham and plucked him out, neither could think of a word to each other. Crane was still awestruck that Cat was indeed still alive. And Cat...as she lay there, flying through the air, arms and legs intertwined with Crane, she couldn't form a sentence. She buried her masked face into his shoulder and bit her lip, trying not to cry. If only they could just fly into a cloud and cease to exist physically, but carry on being a single entity, free of all constraints and just be each other. Feeling Cat struggle to hold on to him, Crane whispered to her to land. Nodding, she drove herself to the closest building she could see. Positioning herself over the flat roof with Crane still on her feet, she clicked her heels twice. The power cut out, causing Cat and Jonathan to go crashing to the pebble-dashed ground ungracefully.

"Well, this is a strange flip isn't it?" Crane muttered, hissing as he pulled his hands out from under Cat. She giggled weakly, but also cried out in pain, feeling as if her back had been scraped with a cheese grater. Putting her forearm gingerly behind her back, she could feel and smell the coppery dampness. Jonathan picked himself up and dusted himself down tentatively, still proud of his appearance, even if he was still in his bright orange Arkham jumpsuit.

"Sparrow? Are you alright?" He asked, stretching out a hand to help her up. Cat squeaked, feeling her fingers ache again. Last thing on Earth that she needed was to have her fingers touched, however well meaning the gesture was. Lying there on the ground, she just stared at his hand dumbly, unsure of what to do next but being unable to get off the ground herself.

"Catherine? Here, let me help you." He said attentively, grabbing her hand before she could stop him.

Pain. There was that white hot pain again, shooting straight up her arm. Cat screamed, shooting up in shock but only coming up to Crane's elbows. Jonathan's eyes widened in concern.

"Catherine? Oh god, what's wrong?"

Cat didn't reply, but looked at her hand still in Crane's clasp. Following her eyes down to his hand, he looked at the gloved hand puzzled, but then reached out.

"No! Please don't!" Cried Cat. Crane ignored her. Taking her forearm in his, he gently pulled her gloves back and gasped at the state her hands were in. Catherine's fingers had always been slim and elegant, a symbol of her cloistered, educated background. Now however, the finger pads were burnt off, showing bloodied stubs with bone peeking through. This, coupled with the bandages across her knuckles made them indeed, a gruesome sight.

"Catherine! What on Earth is this?" He exclaimed. Just what had Cat done tonight? How was she even here? Didn't they find her body with her jewellery and photo of that dog which she always carried around underneath her bra? How come she was stood right here in front of him and not laid on some mortuary table ready for identification?

"Sparrow...what are you doing here?" Although one would think that his tone was the same monotone, clinical tone he always used, Cat sensed how he meant to sound (Jonathan Crane had two levels of voice, sarcastic and monotone. Even years later, it would still take him effort to convey the exact level of affection that he would intend to in his voice, even to Cat), and reached to her side. Jonathan jumped back slightly, a mad thought going through his head that she was reaching for her gun. Instead, she pulled something out from the inside of her skirt, looked up at him and offered it up, in a manner of making a sacrifice.

"_Say something Catherine!"_ She willed herself. It was no use though, her tongue had inflated to a ridiculous size, rendering her speechless and merely able to hold up this single token. Crane looked down at it shocked. She had brought him the Scarecrow's mask.

"Take over!" He inwardly begged Scarecrow, shaking slightly, "Take over! I can't face her. I can't...I don't know what to do..."

"_Not a bloody chance." _ He snapped, _"I sense a human moment coming on, I don't do emotion." _Shaking, he took the mask from her, noticing the blood tracts left behind. No, this wasn't a hallucination, not even he could imagine the perfect red of Catherine's blood. Holding it in awe, he looked back to Cat.

"I err..thought you'd want to be reunited with this." She muttered stupidly. Crane's eyes widened. She had returned from the dead to give him his mask?

"Sparrow... You've seemingly achieved what not even Batman could and returned from a very publicised death...how?"

Cat opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. How do you even begin to tell somebody the mind numbing torture of normality that she had endured that day at the hospital, or of a life changing epiphany? How to put into words a moment of sheer clarity when you see the world in all its sham and chaos? Cat stuttered weakly, trying to find the words. Inwardly, she was cursing herself. Only an hour ago, she felt as if she could kill a man with a single look, but now...now, as much as she hated herself for admitting it, Cat Adams was resurfacing and Psyche, that confident and powerful entity in her was fading. She looked away from his eyes and down at the floor, embarrassed. Crane sighed heavily, counting to ten. Catherine was beginning to close down, like most patients who had just had a breakthrough, and he did not need that right now, not when Sparrow, perhaps the most fascinating and powerful woman in the world to him had come crashing back into his life just when he had thought that she was lost forever? (In his mind, he couldn't let himself accept that the woman he...loved...was really back. How could he? What if she disappeared again in a fireball?) Crane's psychiatric instincts kicked in, Sparrow needed help in talking.

"Just start at the beginning." He whispered encouragingly, "And don't stop till you get to the end." He paused after this, smiling at how much Tech influenced him when he was near the man. Cat smiled from behind the mask. For the first time since leaving Crane's side, she was being listened to. Cat opened her mouth, all day, people had tried to grab a piece of her. Now however, Crane wanted to know her, not filling in the blanks himself. Start at the beginning? Ok, only he could comprehend what was going through her mind right now.

"Hannibal..." She began. Suddenly, there was a flash of a bright, blinding light. Crane instinctively pulled Cat towards him and dived sideways, trying his best to protect Cat from whatever it was.

Cat looked up from under Crane's shoulder. The bright light came from five police helicopters, which hovered threateningly over the two fugitives. Cat squeaked, she had come so far to be reunited with Crane, why did life conspire to drag her back to England?

"On the floor scum! Hands up." An amplified voice yelled from one of the helicopters. Cat tried, but failed to suppress a sob, clutching Crane closer to her.

Crane put his head to her neck, breathing her scent in. Again, he had her in his arms and again, she was going to be taken away from him.

"Catherine." He whispered, "I'm assuming that you don't want to be taken, do you?" Cat shook her head.

"Well then." He said, with an air of a doctor telling a patient how to lower their cholesterol, putting her gloves back on her blooded hands "Trust me." He took Cat's wrist and pulled her up.

"HANDS UP NOW!" A man screamed from the helicopter. Crane led Cat to the edge of the roof gently.

"What nobody seems to realise." He whispered to her, "Is that whilst Jonathan Crane feels that killing is below him, the Scarecrow actually condones it." He smiled at her. Cat nodded, putting her arm around Crane's hips, understanding the way his eyes shot up towards the buzz of helicopters, as he pulled his burlap mask on.

"Hold on she whispered." Scarecrow nodded, wrapping his arms around her neck. Together, they threw themselves off the building.

"I won't let them take me. Society won't consume me." She chanted, feeling the air rush past her, "I'd sooner die." Clicking her heels together, she felt the Scarecrow hold on tight , one foot balanced precariously on her right foot as she threw her hand back to her holster. Pulling a rocket gun out again, she began firing wildly at the cluster of helicopters. As the helicopters exploded in a glorious burst of flames, Scarecrow began to laugh manically with glee, turning his head down to Cat and grinning proudly at the dead look in her eye.

**BANG**

He looked downwards, ears pricking up at the sudden series of bangs below. A convoy. That was all he could describe the scene unfurling underneath, cop car after cop car, glowing brightly, different cops with their guns poised. Diving one hand down to her gun belt, he pulled out Baptiste's gun and began shooting.

"Psyche!" He yelled, "Time to stop playing around and let's get out of here."

Cat nodded, banging her left heel into her right as hard as she could and shooting her and the two villains into the blaze.

"This may feel strange for a bit." She growled in Psyche's strong voice as the clouds enveloped them. Scarecrow shuddered with the cold, repositioning himself on top of her as she flipped herself horizontally again, he wondered how the scantily clad Psyche could handle the temperatures.

"Whe...where do you suggest now?" She shivered. It was clear that they couldn't stay in the city, but couldn't remain in the clouds forever. Jonathan called out from Scarecrow's mind.

"_Scarecrow, the safe house on the outskirts! No one knows about that!"_ He yelled from the safety of his mind, secretly thrilled at that defining show of absolute loyalty that nobody before (nor ever would again) had shown him.

"_That's three times she's chosen to come to us instead of running back to society." _He continued to growl, as Cat continued to hover in the cloud, still clutching the villains to her body (it was too dark to make out eye colour, but the silence meant to Cat that Hannibal and Scarecrow were talking).

"_Alright." _Scarecrow growled, "_You want to actually encourage another car crash on your part, be my guest, but don't expect me to be there to pick up the pieces when she hurts you. In fact, you handle this, I'll have no part in it."_

"There's a safe house, just west of here." Crane informed her, shivering at the cold he was now doused in, "It's outside the city. We'll be safe there." Cat nodded, bringing her heel back into flight mode. Hopefully, the cloud cover (as unpleasant as it was) would keep until they were out of the city.

"Down there." Crane called to Cat. It had been an auspicious journey, the cloud had covered them until they had gotten to just outside the suburbs, by which point, they were off the radar for any helicopter and too high up to be seen by police.

Cat looked down confused. When Crane had told her he knew a safe house, she had assumed that they were returning to the Narrows. When they had emerged from the cloud to see that they were heading for the countryside, Cat had looked into Crane's icy blue eyes quizzically, scared that the Scarecrow would be mad that she had quite clearly gotten them lost. However, he wasn't looking at her, his head was upright, focusing on where they were going.

"Straight ahead Psyche." He ordered, holding on to Cat's neck tighter and snaking his legs around her tighter for a better grip. Cat sighed, if this was a movie, she would have thrown herself into Crane's arms the minute she had freed him from the straightjacket. She couldn't have that though could she? She had to have a scene where not a word was spoken. Even her attempt at a fairy tale reunion was cut short on the roof by people. Inwardly, she was screaming. Why couldn't she and Crane just be in their own universe, just the two of them? Why did the rest of humanity have to spoil it? She in turn hugged him harder with her arms. If she couldn't speak to him then she would just be satisfied being this close to him. Even now, she felt the Psyche within her purr contentedly.

"Are you sure? She asked back, heavily confused. Crane looked down at her and nodded.

"Yes, and this time, might I suggest lowering me down first? Just to avoid another...ah ungraceful moment?" He suggested coldly. Cat shuddered at his tone.

Lowering him down first, Cat clicked her heels, still from a great height as her mind was still reeling at the harshness in Crane's voice.

Crane inwardly cringed as he landed nimbly on the ground, why had he sounded like that? What was wrong with him? He shut his eyes and wished that he had the emotion to actually sound as grateful as he felt to his former hostage. He heard the click far above him. That wasn't right, she hadn't come down far enough. Landing from that height, she would surely break her legs...

Crane opened his eyes and saw Cat falling. Springing out of his apathy, he caught her by the waist, lowering her to the ground gently.

"Idiot." He inwardly chided himself, "Don't you dare let any harm come to her, you've threatened death to others who you thought did."

From under his mask, he stared into her dark eyes. They were so beautiful in the moonlight, shinning as if they contained their own galaxies. Even with the mask on, she was beautiful, her strength and loyalty shinning through. She was beautiful...and she was here...but how?

Now," Crane said, pulling his mask off with one hand, but still holding Cat's hip in another instead of her hand, "Let's try and start this again."

Cat gulped, keeping her mask on. She would not take it off. Jonathan didn't need to see her covered in cuts like this. Easing herself from his grasp, she walked gently through the lines of corn, looking up at the moon.

"It's the first time in a long time I've seen the night sky like this." She said simply, "It looks so...so real from out here doesn't it? Away from the confides of the city?"

Crane looked at her, expressionless. He had never been one for poetry and staring at the stars. Where was Cat going with this?

"In that hospital room." She continued simply, her heart beating. Now was her judgement day, "I sat in that hospital room all day, after a year as a prisoner I'd be used to it. I felt so suffocated in there though! Looking through the window at the city, I felt like I was in a fishbowl, looking out of it, I thought I'd die in there. All these people coming and going...they were so..." She waved her hand in front of her, trying to find the words. Jonathan came up behind her gently.

"Afraid?" He whispered. Cat spun around.

"What?"

"They were afraid of you Psyche. Did they hurry out of the room instead of being with you?" Cat nodded. "They feared you Psyche, you have experienced something they will never. What's more, you survived what not many haven't. You're strange to them, that's why they treated you differently."

"It was awful!" She cried, tears threatening to fall, "All day, they treated me like a China doll who had no mind of her own...They were all convinced that...that you raped me. I kept saying you didn't, but everyone just looked at me like 'oh poor child, she's traumatised,' nobody believed a word I said." Jonathan nodded, of course nobody would believe her. As much as he was aware that his interests only stretched as far as furthering his research, he knew that 'others' would take joy in that sort of thing with their victims.

"And still you defended me?" He asked gently. It couldn't be that people suffocating Catherine with concern had driven her to mutilate her hands and break him out of prison...could it?

"Hannibal." Cat whispered, turning around to look him straight in his icy blue eyes, "Batman told me about Becky Albright." Crane tensed up.

"Batman told you..." Oh no. Jonathan tensed up a little, of course, his spectacular failure at finding a henchwoman (after two years of bitterness, he now refused to admit the feeling of infatuation to even himself), and learning the hard way that the Scarecrow did not take rejection lightly. His heart froze, so that was where Catherine was heading with that? The rape of Albright? This was going to be awkward. How to explain an incident you took no part in, or in fact, took no pride in? Why the hell had Scarecrow done such a thing? Wasn't it bad enough that he was humiliated in rejection? Scarecrow didn't need to have his say, but he did. And it made things a whole lot worst. How could he be accused of being a rapist? He could barely talk to women, let alone touch them! As he was caught up in his panic, Cat took his hands carefully in her palms.

"He and everybody else...they told me you were a monster...and all day, it kept going around in my head...who are they on about? You, or the Scarecrow? Batman was such an idiot. He thinks you're pure evil Hannibal..."

"And you think otherwise?" He asked incredulously. What the hell was going on? He had spent all day in love with an image of a woman who was apart from the rest of society...and now he had her beside him, and instead of that woman, he had a child with naive notions that he was good. Inside, Scarecrow was rolling on the ground in hysterics.

_"There you go Johnny-Boy, your great Psyche. Nothing more than a Sparrow, a child who sees nothing but good and bad. A Harley Quinn who's so fucking brainwashed she sees the world through rose tinted glasses."_

"Catherine..." He started, how could he, Jonathan Crane, get a person so wrong? Catherine cut him off though, holding up a hand. She was not finished yet.

"He called you evil for killing Miriam Keeney. You know that name well though, don't you Jonathan? As well as I'll always know Eduardo Del Mayo. It got me thinking though, Batman sees you as evil for killing her, but I see it as divine justice. What use then are the terms of good and bad? You're sure as hell aren't' a saint. I'd hate it if you were actually were...by societies standards anyway." Both Scarecrow and Crane stood there open mouthed.

"Fuck me." The Scarecrow gaped, "I think she's making sense!"

"After all, what good have I for a man who's...well...'good,' 'law abiding?' That got me thinking in the hospital bed. They named their child after me by the way, my brother and sister in law. That got me thinking more. If I went home now, settled for the first generic accountant who asked me to marry him, I'd probably end up taking a shot gun off the wall and sticking it in my mouth. What good do I have now for the husband, 2 kids and a dog? A man so dull he thinks that the neighbours leaving their bins out is a crime. On and on I'd go, giving up any hopes of a nonexistent career to raise bratty kids and become a live in maid for them like my own dear, sweet mother? Crane, you taught me true happiness! Use your mind to rise to the top of the pile, crush those who try and crush you." Crane's eyes widened. Indeed, she might have well have died in that fire, for what he saw before her was no sparrow, but a phoenix.

"I have a surprise for you." She panted, the words coming thick and fast now, as if she was in a marathon and unable to stop, "I got my revenge."

"Revenge?" Jonathan exclaimed excitedly, "How?" Cat smiled behind the mask wickedly.

"Will and Amy," She whispered, "Let's just say...they'll be on the news very soon, just not for winning that Oscar they want so much."

Sensing the conniving tone in her voice, Crane didn't need to ask what it was, her revenge would be fitting enough for them.

"And so you ask me why I am here. Simple, I realised, mixing with those freaks, how fearful everyone in the world actually is! A reporter came into my room to get a scoop. At first I was mad, then I realised something. He came in to my room because he was scared of failure. I made sure that he'll always be remembered though..."

"Oh?" Jonathan couldn't hear Scarecrow screaming at him to ignore her anymore, all he could see was Cat. Cat in front of him, masked, blood smattered and more powerful than anything in the world.

"I made sure he has a more memorable death than any piece of shit he's written in his life." She grinned. "In that moment, I realised we're all terrified, and if I return to concrete suburbia, I'll be affected by that fear too. Marry for the sake of marrying so that I'm not alone. Reproducing so I'll feel like my life was worth something. All the time, sticking to the rules of society out of fear of change...that's why my hands are like this. That is why I killed so many tonight...that's why Cat Adams is dead. Better I be dead and start again, than become nothing more than a circus sideshow and 'the girl who was kidnapped.' There, I'll be a victim...here...with you..." Cat positioned her wrists on Crane's hips, looking up into his beautiful, confused eyes, "If you'll have me of course." Jonathan, speechless, put his hands on either side of Cat's mask and gently prised it away from her face. Cat stared at him defiantly, she was without the safety of her mask, but it didn't matter. She was naked before Jonathan, all she was, was here.

"Catherine." He whispered in wonder, "How different you are."

Cat blushed, her defiant face slipping. Why the hell did he take her mask off? Behind it, she was Psyche, Mistress of Fear. Now however, she was simply Cat Adams in a stupid outfit. Crane continued to stare at her however, his cold blue eyes lighting up in embarrassment at seeing her face again. She tried to look down, but Jonathan caught her chin and forced her to look at him.

There she was, her eyes still like pools of oil, with stars floating in them, but now, it was in the full glory of her face. Her skin was badly scratched due to the nights antics in getting to him. Two cuts just below her eyes were quite deep and still bleeding slightly, giving her the alluring look of her crying blood. This, coupled with her burlap hood made Crane think irresistibly of a statue of a Madonna where fanatic followers swore it could cry blood. Was that what Catherine was now? A blessed virgin? A goddess? Was she here to offer him absolution and unconditional love? Inwardly, he was groaning with longing for the woman who was now nothing like the child he had kidnapped. This woman in front of him was otherworldly and wise, everything he ever wanted and more.

Suddenly, within the confides of Crane's mind, Scarecrow roared. He had had quite enough fluff and awkward teenage scenes, he would not let Jonathan be sucked in by any woman. Seizing her by the throat, he lifted Cat high into the air above his head, squeezing tightly.

"Is this what you wanted?" He bellowed, willing the life out of Catherine Adams. She thought that she could have a fairy tale existence with Johnny-Boy? Was Crane really that delusional that he thought that he and Cat would fall in love and everything would be peachy? What? Was she so special? He'd show Jon (and himself) that Cat Adams was no bloody miracle Mary, she was a human that could be broken like all the rest. Something was wrong though, why wasn't she scared? Why wasn't she choking?

Cat held her breath. She had seen Hannibal's eye colour change rapidly, she expected the Scarecrow's input at some point, what she didn't expect a hand to come shooting out, seizing her by the throat and hoisting her up. It shocked her, but no. "I won't scream." She promised herself, "I'll keep a straight face, I won't even breathe. I didn't come all this way to be threatened by Crane's alter ego. This lack of fear aggravated Scarecrow.

"Is this what you wanted?" He bellowed, "To be back in the presence of a monster? What are you doing bitch? Scream! Scream for your life!" Cat looked at him murderously.

"No." She choked, banging one foot into her other leg angrily. She shot back into the air, Scarecrow sill hanging precariously onto her neck, yelling in shock.

"What the hell are you doing?" He demanded, looking down at how high up Cat was shooting up, and kept going. He felt his grip begin to loosen as gravity took its toll on the man.

"Stop it Cat!" He growled, "Stop! I'm slipping!" Cat ignored him.

"Is this what I want?" She snarled, amazed at how Psyche's voice came through so easily, even confronting Scarecrow, "Is this what you want? For Jonathan to be threatened like this. I could let you drop right now, I won't lie, from this height, neither of you would survive. Though lets think about this logically. I've killed enough people to attract a few odd looks when I go to the shops these days. All day, I've been going over in my head how I shouldn't want to be here. I should want to be on a plane right now, I'm not like Jonathan in the slightest, I haven't suffered like him...or I never used to be. I see now, if I was to be exactly like him, we'd be no better than the filth of society. Am I here because I think you're good underneath? That I'll have a fairytale life now I'm with you. I don't expect the moon and stars Crow, I laid in that hospital and decided I wanted life instead of society. I wanted life with the one man who gets me now...I'll not scream, only the weak scream."

"You'll kill Jonathan." Scarecrow snapped, feeling his hand slip. Inwardly, he couldn't help but feel his heart beat. This wasn't the usual reunion scene, how many films these days had the woman nearly kill the man at the end? On the other hand, Jonathan began screaming.

"_Fuuuuck! Scarecrow, why did you do that? I wanted her, why do that to her?"_

"Johnny, this isn't the time" He screamed at him. His body's heart stopped as his hand finally gave way and let go of Cat's throat. He felt his body fall, Jonathan in his mind was screaming, this night had gone so wrong, like everything else in his life. Suddenly, Cat dipped, seizing the Scarecrow and Crane with both hands, ignoring the shooting pain in her arms.

"Don't you see?" She moaned, the pain was excrutiating, but she wouldn't fear pain anymore, "I came here tonight with nothing. I can do nothing for you, I haven't gone through this great journey and become stronger or anything corny like that, I'm just a girl who realised that she loved you..."

"She what?"

_"She what?"_

Cat forced herself to remain calm. She was Psyche now, not poor, scared Cat. Clicking her heels gently, she and the two men descended back to the ground, down, to the dilapidated barn, through a hole in the roof and landing on the straw strewn ground. It was a deceptive building, looking utterly destroyed on the outside, but fairly liveable inside. Firmly on the ground, she looked back up, still clutching his hands.

"You claim you love Jonathan," He snapped, "but I think you're forgetting a little fact..."

"That there are two of you?" Scarecrow nodded.

"I can see why you'd love Johnny-Boy, the intellect and the one who felt compelled to protect you for some reason, you seem to be under the illusion I'd be the same perfect lover...what? That I'll make you a cuppa and rub your feet and ask you how your days been?"

"God no." Scoffed Cat, "If you ever did that, I'd fly you higher than the Burj Khalifa and drop you." Inwardly, Jonathan smirked, whereas the Scarecrow looked at him confused.

"However," She continued, "Why do I want you too? Simple really, you and I have one obsession. Jonathan. You think I'm just human? I think you're human too, you're the thing he wishes he could be. That's not the point though, you and me both love him...I've spent all day defending him...let us defend him together." Scarecrow smiled. She was smart, she understood it...but did she really believe what she was saying?

"So what you going to do? Be the same around us both? That'll get dull I'm afraid..."

"No." She interjected, "I just need to ask you...does Jonathan feel anything for me?" Jonathan screamed out for his companion not to say anymore, but he wasn't intending to play the stupid teenage angst game. She'd faked her death, she really wasn't going anywhere so it was best that she knew everything.

"Yes, he does care." He agreed. Cat nodded.

"What do you think of me?"

"Me? First of all I thought you were just another hostage. Then a hostage with a smart mouth. Then you...saved his life. I have to admit, it's that stuff I prefer. Now you're here, such blind loyalty to Jonathan...and who are you? The girl I kidnapped wouldn't kill. Mane yes, but not kill. This woman in front of me, I've never seen such coldness when killing...this Psyche's a monster...I like it. Jonathan, maybe not, but me, it's definitely a turn on, this new Psyche. But I'm curious, how could you be with both of us? It'll be hard." Cat sighed.

"Psyche could never look upon her lover's face in the myths." She started slowly, "When I have the mask on, I'm Psyche, just as when you've got your mask on, you're the Scarecrow. Me and Psyche, we're the same, just different." Scarecrow's eyes widened, he had thought only he and Jonathan understood humans like this. Jonathan was right, she was something special.

"I can't tell you anything else to convince you to leave Jonathan now is there?" He growled. All challenges he had thrown at her, she had slapped back down. Even he was starting to weaken under Cat's new side...was it possible that she was scaring him slightly? She shook her head. Jonathan screamed out.

"_Let me take control! I have to speak to her."_ He demanded in his head.

"In that case." He growled, pulling her hood down and undoing her hair, watching it cascaded down her back, "there's nothing more to say." He smiled wickedly and leant in to kiss her. If she wanted a shag, he'd give it. Cat gasped slightly, but held up her left hand so that Scarecrow gently kissed her injured finger pads. Opening his eyes, he looked at Cat confused.

"Scarecrow...let me see Hannibal." She whispered, hissing slightly in pain. Scarecrow looked at her, but nodded understandingly. He wasn't one for romantic scenes. He was only going to kiss her because it was expected. Jonathan on the other hand, he could almost feel him crying with joy inside. He had never kissed a woman, this moment, in all its sickeningly cheesy form was Crane's.

"I will take you soon little monster." He growled, before allowing himself to fall into the darkness of his mind and bringing Jonathan forward.

"Sparrow?" He breathed, taking hold of Cat's shoulders. Cat's eyes filled with tears, this was it, this was the reunion she had dreamt about.

"Hannibal." She replied. No Scarecrow, no Psyche, just them. "In answer to your question, I came back for you. I always will." Jonathan's grasp tightened. All his life, nobody in the world had ever cared about him, now this girl, with no real trauma was as good as offering her life to him.

"I came back because I was scared of losing you." She said, a tear running down her cheek, "You were right, all my life, I was a little girl running away from everything because I was scared. I don't feel fear when I'm with you though, when I'm with you..."

"What?" He shook, he couldn't believe this. Cat bit her lip. Time to put the ghosts of Will and Harry to rest.

"Hannibal...I love you." Jonathan breathed out, shaking, he had heard it when he was in his head, but he couldn't believe it now she was telling it to his face.

"What do you mean?" He asked shakily. Cat smiled.

"I'm in love with you. Pure and simply...insanely in love with you. I love you and I'll leave only when you tell me to, though if you do, you'd have to do it with a knife, I'm afraid you're all I have now."

Crane's mouth fell open. Flipping through his head, he tried to remember the last time anybody had said those words to him. He suppressed a shudder, nobody had. He looked back to Cat.

"Love of an older man...with a history of violence towards you." He mused, Scarecrow seemed sure of her but he couldn't help but try and divert the conversation, anything to avoid emotions which could humiliate him. "Sparrow, you gave up a loving family and a future for me?"

"Crazy isn't it?" She smiled, "And yet, in a future so full of safety and promise, I'd have to live with boredom. Which sane person would happily live in that world?"

"A very wise observation." He acknowledged, "And yet, who wouldn't prefer to be crazy with the rest instead of them than wise alone?" Cat smiled.

"When being wise would mean that I'm wise with you, when being wise means I'm not regarded as a thing of pity and fascination. When I can be more myself than I can ever be with anybody else. That's when I'd rather not be crazy with the rest of them." She stared into Jonathan's blue eyes, never realising before, just how easy it was to get lost in them. She couldn't believe it. Yesterday, she was panicking that she had forgotten their exact shade, but now, staring into them, she lost herself in their iciness, not believing that she had him back. If only he would kiss her.

Jonathan continued to stare, hardly believing that such a small thing could have such power over him. Why couldn't he just take her there and then? He looked away from her Spanish eyes, back down to her hands.

"You need to get them sorted out." He stuttered, "Here."

Crane let go of her shoulders and walked calmly over to one corner of the barn. Pulling up a floorboard, he motioned for her to join him as he pulled out bandages and alcohol rub

"This isn't much." He apologised, "But it's the best I can do." Cat sighed. Looks like the night's quota of pain wasn't over yet.

Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes of holding in her screams as Crane bandaged her fingers up. Crane worked on them diligently, silent throughout. Cat didn't say anymore. She knew Crane by now, she knew the pattern. She spoke, he thought, like a true psychiatrist. Now she had spoken, the ball was in his court now.

Crane held up her hands to his eye line, smiling satisfied at his handiwork. "The pain you face being with me will be much worse than this." He muttered, "Much worse. Apart from the obvious physical damage of course, there will be periods when we shall be separated Sparrow, long times."

"I don't care." She whispered simply. She didn't care how long she would theoretically be separated from him, just as long as she could always return to him.

"You'll be a leper to society."

"I don't care." She'd been the nerd, the weirdo, the outcast all her life. Only now, she had another nerd, weirdo and outcast to rough it out with.

"You'll have to fight to keep your identity covered." He tried one last time.

"It'll be done." She said, adopting the air of finality Crane favoured. "For the last time Hannibal, none of this matters anymore! God! Why do you have to be so anal all the ti..."

"No." He said firmly. This moment with Catherine was perfect, why spoil it? Cat sighed.

"If this is about Eddie." She said firmly, "Then he can rot in whatever dumpster you threw him in."

Crane looked up at her. In the moonlight, he could see the perfect outline of her body, the moon above giving her a slivery appearance like some mythical being.

"It is not about you." He said difficultly, she was so beautiful, but how could he show her his body? The years of abuse and starvation, they were not a pretty sight. Cat looked down, but nodded. She saw Miriam Keeney and heard the squawk of crows, she heard the canteen jeers, much like what she had endured at school. No. Jonathan was above that now. In that barn, they had the world in their hands. She unbuttoned his bright orange Arkham shirt.

"I don't care." She repeated again. Suddenly, like a wild animal, she tore off the buttons off his bright orange Arkham shirt. His torso was revealed to Cat, who gasped in shock, staring at his torso. He was so thin, you could see every rib, every vein. She moved down, kissing one of his nipple sweetly and ran her fingers down them. "You're gorgeous to me. That's all I care about right now." Crane sat up, pulling his shirt off completely, revealing a patchwork of deep, long ago scars which would never fade. Cat gasped slightly.

"Do you see now?" He demanded, "See how ugly I truly am! Look at them Catherine. I am what I am because of this. I have tried, I have tried everything, and yet you will not leave my side. I murdered a girl I thought I loved once, you are not safe with me." Anything. Anything to save her, he would try it. Cat didn't look shocked though, neither did she look at them pityingly. On the contrary, she looked at them in wonder.

"Monsters are made." She said firmly, running a finger over one particularly large one, "Some would say that it's a pity that such scars are on your body. Others would say they make you look dangerous. Me? Well, they look noble to me." She smiled and waggled her bandaged fingers in front of him, "Makes me feel better to have my own war wounds anyway, this way, you're not more perfect to me. I think I'd get paranoid if you were." Crane sighed. He was wrong thinking that she was perfect. She was scared of men and she was still the same shy girl underneath it all. But then again, to expect her to have gone on this huge journey? That happened in stories and films, but this was real life where closure didn't come as sudden. Then again, this wasn't a fairytale, but it was the closest he had ever come.

Crane grabbed her by the back of the head and bent down to her, pressing his lips to hers. She was right. To hell with the rest of the world, he wanted Catherine Adams. He deserved Catherine Adams.

Cat gasped in shock. All evening, this was what she had dreamt of, Hannibal kissing her. Now, after waiting for so long, she had this spontaneous and unexpected moment. Her eyes widened in surprise, seeing Jonathan turn bright pink and close his eyes with his lips on hers.

She had been kissed many times before and could now tell the difference between an experienced kiss and an experimental kiss. This was definitely the latter, his lips were pressed against hers, but it was as if he didn't know what to do next. Inwardly, Crane was cursing himself for not making another move out of fear. Inside, his mind couldn't help but flash to the last girl he had kissed (not the Scarecrow, him) and how he had to keep trying to kiss Sherry Squires over and over again as he kept missing. Damn her to hell, why was she still haunting him like this?

Cat stood there, the last time Crane had kissed her, it had been wild, passionate, half crazy...because he was half crazy at the time with no grasp on reality. Cat's eyes widened more in realisation. So that kiss she'd savoured wasn't him or the Scarecrow, it was Crane's madness.

"Screw it." Her mind snapped. She wanted him, he clearly wanted her, who cared if this wasn't how she imagined it. Besides, she knew what to do now.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she closed her eyes and kissed him. Gently at first, but then becoming more and more passionate. Jonathan inwardly smiled, secretly pleased that Cat was taking the lead. He drew his hands from her head and down slowly to her waist. He straightened up pulling her feet off the ground causing Cat to squeak in surprise and pleasure. She tightened her grip around Crane's neck and drove her tongue into his mouth more, engaging in a fierce tongue wrestle causing Jonathan's legs to weaken and for his body to fall backwards onto a pile of hay. Cat moaned out in surprise, but smiled and broke off the kiss, running her fingers through his greasy hair and put her head on Jonathan's torso contentedly. Crane looked down, kissing the mass of thick bushy hair in his wake. It wasn't some wonderful dream, his sparrow had truly flown back to him. Crane had always been a loner, believing he never needed anybody. To need something was weak, a leftover stage of childhood which he had long since abandoned. Looking down at Cat now however, was there a place in his life for both Cat and the Scarecrow? This new Psyche was strong, cunning and terrifying, she was a lot like Scarecrow but a slightly more elegant when she committed crimes (and even then, unlike Scarecrow, only for a purpose). She was still Catherine though, still the woman who laughed all the time and was always ready for a debate over anything. His old Catherine was much like him. He could still hear the Scarecrow crooning in admiration at her transformation and knew that that side of her was for him. Catherine though, was his. If the Scarecrow could desire her than he could as well.

"I do love you Catherine." He blurted out suddenly, still keeping his monotone voice. Cat looked up sharply, staring into his eyes.

"You..." She stuttered. She knew that she had said those three words over and over because she could never keep her mouth shut. She had thought he would say that...had she even thought that he would?

"Love you." He repeated. "Scarecrow loves Psyche in his own way, but you, I love you with every fibre of my being. I never expected to, I did nothing different to you that has not already been done to others. You however...you bewitched me to need you. I must admit, I hate what you have done to me, when I am with you, I've never felt more human. However, if hating you means that I feel this divine rush. If this is love, then I never want you to leave my side." Cat smiled, "I'm afraid that that's not the most romantic declaration in the world Catherine, but it's all I can do. You'd hate it if it was different though wouldn't you Sparrow? To have a man bleat on and on that you are his reason for living like some rag of a Mills and Boon book. People talk too much and you and me, we're not one of them. This will probably be the only time I will tell I love you. Do not despair if this is the case, always know that in the way that I look at you, the way I talk to you...you are irreproachable to the rest of society and I cannot be without you now."

Cat looked down on him for a second. In her head, she was going over what had just been said. The first time anybody had ever told her that they loved her. It wasn't like she had expected...it wasn't cheesy, it wasn't the same hackneyed rubbish that everyone spouted. Cat could feel the emotion within Crane's declaration; the brutal honesty which she alone was privy to, the rawness which Crane didn't show anybody else. He was right, those three words were said way too much by most people that they lost their meaning, Jonathan made the words fierce like the most striking of Frida Kahlo paintings. Crane put a hand to her bleeding face and held her cheek softly.

"I will mend you." He whispered, "I mended your hands, I will heal you. Never be afraid of anything Sparrow." She nodded. That incident in Arkham wouldn't have gone amiss, Cat knew what he was getting at and he knew she understood.

"So mend me." She challenged, Psyche was beginning to break through again. "Make me like you." Jonathan's eyes widened as she swooped down and kissed him passionately.

"Let me be a part of your power, I want to feel the awesomeness of your fear."

Jonathan looked at her, dumbfounded. She truly wasn't like the rest. Most rape victims shut off completely to intimacy. Not his Sparrow, within days of Eddie Del Mayo, she had shed her old life in the most extreme way, declared love for her kidnapper and was now offering herself to him as if she was on the altar to the God of Fear. She looked at him intently, such a beautiful lunatic. He leaned forward, kissing her gently on the forehead.

"Do you desire to feel the God of Fear Psyche?" He asked, making the Scarecrow's voice rise in him (Scarecrow himself opened the door and looked out. This was starting to get interesting). He stroked her face.

_"Wow."_ Scarecrow sneered, "_You're actually going to give her some action? This I gotta see."_ Crane seized up. This was it, the moment he had often seen Scarecrow do, though never himself. He tensed up, what to do now?

_"I could step in if you want Johnny Boy." _The Scarecrow sneered, _"I'll please her before you scare her off for good."_

"Shut up." He snarled inwardly. Scarecrow continued however.

_"Surprised she's still here after that disastrous attempt at a first kiss..."_

"Hannibal." Cat called. She had seen the inner argument going on in his eyes, no prizes for guessing what they were about. "You forget, I'm not exactly experienced either." With that, she pulled off her purple boob tube, "I know outside, you're the all knowing, all confident Scarecrow, but in this barn, we're just a boy and a girl wanting to love each other. Let's forget about what society thinks, we always do anyway. Let's just be two people tonight, doing something never done before. Who cares if it doesn't go to plan? Who will know?"

Crane smiled. She was right, this was the woman who had seen images from his past. He was a man who knew every side of her mind.

"Come her then." He ordered, pulling her back down and rolling on top if her. "Sing hosannas to your god." He purred seductively , moving down to her burlap skirt. He pulled it off along with her underwear. Looking down at her, he gasped. It was like a small pink flower.

"You're beautiful." He breathed in wonder. Cat smiled.

"Take me my lord." She hissed to him.

Yes, it was a beautiful, calm night in Gotham. Looking it from the sky, you'll see on the roads, an odd car moving down the lone road heading to the city. If you look into the city which never slept, you'd see people still on the street, milling around like ants. Yes, life was a machine of people moving around in the typical day to day sludge. Over on the posher side of town in Wayne Mansion, a mother was screaming for the loss of her daughter. On the outskirts though, in a lone barn, the woman formerly her daughter screamed in pleasure. Nothing existed outside of the structure. The boy who was once unloved and beaten was one with the lone traveller from a distant land. The girl who had spent her whole life running was now at peace, bare and naked in a baptism of new life.

As the dawn broke and the sun began to rise, the Scarecrow stirred. Opening his eyes, he looked down at the sleeping form on his stomach. He smiled at the events of the previous night. Never had he seen Johnny become such a man as he did last night, neither had Crane ever had the strength to completely shut him out before. It was the woman, perhaps she would play a bigger part in Jon's life than previously thought...perhaps she would stay and love him. Scarecrow inwardly growled. Crane was right, he did feel a certain amount of affection to her evil side (thank you very much Jonathan for revealing that), but could he live with Cat? He looked down at her properly. Last time her and Crane had shared a bed, they had ended up cuddled up platonically, resembling a long married couple. Last night however, they had tangled themselves up like passionate lovers, two lovers finding each other and had kissed goodbye to sense and forgetting regrets. Cat was draped on his torso, head above his heart, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Crane was just as bad, his legs were thrown over hers. Locked together as if staking his claim over her, one arm draped over her shoulders and the other resting gently on her buttock. Cat was breathing gently, a small smile playing around on her lips as she was lost in peaceful dreams, just like Johnny-Boy. Scarecrow smiled, Cat Adams was the first woman (nay person) to tell Jon that she loved him. Scarecrow had no use for such emotions, he was driven by the exciting parts of the human psyche like lust. He smiled as he removed Crane's hand from Cat's bum and stroked her cheek.

"If they say," He growled softly to her as not to wake her up, "that nothing lasts forever." He placed his hand around her throat and mimicked squeezing it, "Then what makes love the exception?" He contemplated it for a second, but instead wrapped his hand back around her waist. "I guess I can just enjoy the benefits of Crane being in love." He growled deeply to himself. "Never hurt him." He warned her softly, kissing her on top of her head and closing his eyes again, drifting back into the darkness of Crane's mind.

And so let us leave these two for now. If this was a movie, the screen would blacken out by now, some rock music would come on and the audience would file out of the cinema and get into an argument about whose better, the Joker or the Scarecrow? Cinema critics would already be arguing the feminist points of Cat's character and how their relationship would never work. This isn't a movie though, unlike a movie, good doesn't win over evil, and life doesn't make sense like a plot. In a few hours, our two anti-heroes will wake up, still wrapped up in each other and stay that way. In two weeks, they will emerge from their safe house and appear on the doorstep of one associate of Jonathan Crane who goes by the name of Edward Nygma, ready for Psyche's debut on the crime scene. Tomorrow, the papers will land on the newsstand to be picked up by a blonde woman running errands for her boss/abusive boyfriend and will see the headlines not only pronouncing Cat Adams dead, but also, an exclusive interview which will attract the furious attention of said boss, who would begin to clear his schedule to meet said reporter.

Right now however, let's us leave these two alone in the hay. There will be plenty of times to see them separately in the future. For now however, they deserve their privacy. The future's too cruel to ruin the precious moments they have now.

**And there you go! The origin of Psyche, Mistress of Fear. Hope you've enjoyed it :) I know I should have spent this summer reading for my final year at uni, but as John Lennon says, time you've wasted but enjoyed is not time wasted, God knows I've enjoyed writing each and every chapter :)**

** As I promised in the last chapter, there will be a sequel. 'Melinoe' will be out soon, documenting Cat's life and consequences of choosing a life of crime. Afterall, there's a few things that need tying up, what hold did she have over Batman? How do you disappear after such a high profile kidnapping situation? Expect more explosions and more psychology. I'm afraid it won't be updated as often as Psyche as I'm going back to uni in 2 weeks and working most of this week, but I promise you, I'll update when I can, I can't leave Cat and Jonathan like this, like I said, life doesn't cut out when you say THE END, I know where I'm going with this, I promise you won't be disappointed. Just add me to Author Alerts and it'll be up ASAP :)**

**Right, time for a few thankyous because without you guys, none of this would be possible.**

**First, to all those who reviewed my story: Rawhide (Whose chapter by chapter reviews made my day), Highlandgirl 1592, Lunatica. Daliz (who also always spurred me on to write more :D), Madness is me (First ever reviewer), Tapidum Lucidum, Bloomingfireheart, WinterIceDrop, Rancid Rainbow, KrissyLynn1994, AkiTaku (who plugged my story on her page), Panda (you're ace), Sandradee27, Athena, MariaBonita and Mrs. Murphy. You guys are all amazing and I've loved getting your reviews.**

**To everyone who added me to alerts:**

**acarly, Bleedingcrimson, Coconaur, Deathb4beauty, DebbieKolling, ehs06702, , Highlandgirl 1592, KrissyLynn 1994, Lady-Kiki-Theevilmastermind, Lovinlife83, Luna-Bee, Lunatic. Daliz, MariaBonita, Miss Gypsy willow, Mistressofdarkness666, Moonstar66, Nageki No Mori, Queenofclovers93, Rancid Rainbow, Rawhide,Sandradee27, Strangler000, WinterIceDrop, XAngel-from-the-snowX**

**I hope I haven't let you down xxx**

**To the community Gotham's Newest Addition**, **thanks for adding me**

**To everyone who added me to favourites: **

**AkiTaku**  
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**To the people in my life who read this and encouraged me, to Hannah who was the main inspiration for this story after listening to me rant about why Chris Nolan sucks for not putting Cillian Murphy in Batman Begins for long enough and how it sucked that Mistress of Fear didn't have the ending Jonathan Crane deserved before telling me that if I thought I could do better then to stop ranting and do it...as you can see, don't challenge me to these things, I will follow through lol.**

**And finally, to everyone else who read my story and everyone who inspired me, thankyou so much for encouraging me to write and cater to my new obsession. It's nice to know I'm not the only one who loves Batman villains and irish actors :D**

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